A Southern Gentleman
by Mrs. Brownloe
Summary: Honor, duty and gentility were the guiding principles of a southern gentleman. So, there was only one thing to do when Edward discovered the truth of something that happened long ago, something he was honor-bound to repair if it took him the rest of his life.
1. Chapter 1 Prologue Four Days in July

A Southern Gentleman

Prologue: Four Days In July

2013 Age of Edward Winner- Popular Vote YA, Judge's Choice

Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

_**July 2, 1863**_

_I could hear the thundering roar of the battle rising over the ridge. With each explosion, little motes of dirt drifted down from the earthen walls that surrounded me. Gasping, I hunkered down, hiding in the root cellar under my little home, hoping that I would be safe. Earlier, I had seen an unnatural smoke rising in the east created by the unceasing firing of rifles and cannon. In the distance, I could also hear the shouts of men and the screams of horses as a hellish cacophony descended upon my farm. _

_All I could do was hide, pray, and remember. _

**January 1861**

It had begun as a small cloud puffing up out on the far horizon during the spring of my seventeenth year. There had been some political talk about State's Rights and the plight of the Negro, but selfishly, I cared little for any of that. Pennsylvania was a free state, populated by small farms, villages, and a few distant cities, so these problems were foreign to me.

But I clearly recalled hearing the snap of the newspaper that cold, winter's evening as my father folded back the page and read with a horrified voice, "South Carolina has seceded! This means war!"

In those days, I was still a giddy girl and my first thought at the news was only how many partners less I'd have at the summer house parties I would be invited to. After Johnny Reb fired upon Fort Sumter, war was eventually declared. That little black cloud of fear suddenly blossomed into a thunderhead, though it was still far off in a distant land. I worried for the gentlemen in my town who chose to answer Mr. Lincoln's call to arms and joined in the fervent prayers for their safety.

For a while, life went on as usual. Father would farm his fields, and grumble over the paper, while Grandmother and I ran our household, attending the same old quilting bees we always had, except now we knitted socks and sewed shirts. True, there were many boys from our town who went to war, but other than their absence, our lives were the same.

At first, the Union lost battle after battle due to the wily tactics of the turncoat, Robert E. Lee, the leader of the Confederate Army. Well into the war's second year, my father became more and more agitated. Once the fall harvest of '62 had passed, he declared to my grandmother and me that he was duty-bound to go and fight. Far from being just a cloud on the horizon, fear had now darkened my whole sky.

That first winter alone, we were in good stead as Father had left us well-placed in food and firewood. We'd receive word from him now and again; sometimes not hearing anything for weeks and then receiving a bundle of letters all at once. We bided in our little home and I became less of a girl and more of a woman. Worry, I think, will do that.

Pa hadn't returned to do the planting in the spring as he had hoped, but after conferring with my grandmother, we decided only to raise what we'd be able to store in our cellar. Planting out cash crops was too big an endeavor for an old woman and an inexperienced girl and there were no men to hire to do it for us.

So, we tottered along doing as well as we could, until fear came directly over our doorstep. One morning in late June, my grandmother, who had been feeling poorly for weeks, couldn't arise from her bed. I summoned the doctor and after his examination, he declared our little farm under quarantine. My grandmother had the Typhoid and it was thought that I would surely get it, too. The doctor nailed a card on our door warning off folks. Fear was no longer a cloud covering the sky, it now shrouded me as a fog covered the world on a grey morning.

For a solid week, I constantly tended Grandma, struggling to ease her pain and praying that she survived-but it was not to be. Though I hadn't yet caught the disease, the doctor said that sometimes the symptoms didn't show until weeks after the contagion had occurred. I was still quarantined. I could not even attend Grandma's hasty funeral.

However, I had no time to grieve. My young cousin, Jacob, would come by to check on me but, of course, he couldn't enter my house. He'd stand on the porch and we'd talk through the door as he gave me news, and more often it was dreadful than not.

**June 29, 1863**

A few days after my grandmother's funeral, he told me, "Bella, the Rebs are coming!"

"To Gettysburg?"

"Well, to Pennsylvania, at least. They say General Lee himself is on the way!"

Suddenly, my heart felt as though it was in a vise. "But we have so few Union soldiers here! What shall we do?"

"Word has it that General Meade's bringing our army to confront him."

Wringing my hands, I said, "This is bad news, indeed. What are you going to do, Jacob?"

"Many fools are leaving town, but my father says no one has any idea where the battle will actually be. They could be jumping from the frying pan into the fire. We're staying."

Jacob left leaving me feeling somewhat relieved, but I decided to prepare just the same. I couldn't easily leave the farm. Besides still being quarantined (thus no one would take me up with them), I had a farm to see to. I harvested as many vegetables as I could, and put most of them in the root cellar. I turned the cows and work horses out to pasture and hoped marauding soldiers on either side wouldn't find them. I knew the cows would be taken for slaughter if they were discovered. Our horses would be used to pull cannon and wagons on the battlefield, for certain. I did the best that I could by them and then turned my attention to my own safety.

I set about provisioning the root cellar. I moved an old bed-tick down there, with an oil lamp, a slop bucket and a big cask of water. The last thing I placed there was my father's old musket. It was a front loader and I couldn't shoot it very well, but I knew how. It would be better than just having a kitchen knife to defend myself if needed.

I was fortunate because our cellar was entered from a trap door in the floor of our house, not from the outside. Unless you knew to roll up the rug in the front room, you'd not see it was there. I tacked the rug to the floor, so that it would fall back in place once I pulled the door closed behind me.

**July 1, 1863**

I'd done as much as I could and just in time. Two days later, I heard a shout and peered out of the window to see rows of the enemy marching down the highway towards town. A few coming up from behind the main group, peeled off and started toward my farmstead.

Fear gave my feet wings and I dashed down the cellar stairs, closing the trap door and sliding the bolt home. Then I huddled on the pallet, fearing even to light my lantern. I jumped when I heard steps climb onto the front porch and knock on the door.

"_Is anyone here-about?"_ I heard shouted.

Of course I didn't answer.

"_What does this here card say?"_

"_I cain't make it out but it looks like a notice."_

"_Q-U-A-R-E-N-T-I-N-E and some other such. Maybe someone's sick here 'bouts?"_

I heard the door open. I hadn't locked it because I knew it'd just be broken down.

"_Yoo Hoo! Anybody home?" _

I heard boots stomp over my head. By now I was shaking, trying my hardest not to sob.

"_Don't look like no one's here._"

"_Sick or not, they may have runned off when they saw us acomin'_."

"_The coals are still warm. They was here sometime today_."

"_P'raps they's in the barn?"_

"_Go on and look. I'll see what's worth keeping in here. Be careful lest someone has a gun."_

I heard one of them leave by the back door and the man left in the house started to rummage around. Drawers were opened and rifled. There was an exclamation of satisfaction when a helpful discovery was made.

Soon, the other returned and said, _"Cain't find no one but the yard's full of chickens and there's some cattle out in the pasture. A good sized wagon's in the barn, as well."_

"_Found two loaves of bread, some corn meal, and some sorghum here but not much else. Did you see a cellar?"_

I thought my heart would stop at those words.

"_Naw. This house is on pillars. There must be a shed or something where they keep they vittles."_

"_Well, get a rope on those cattle, harness some to the wagon and I'll see if I can grab a few of them chickens and put them in a sack. Anything ripe for pickin'?"_

"_Naw. Seems the garden's done been harvested. Cap'n has to be satisfied with what we found."_

I waited the rest of the afternoon until I could be sure they were gone. When I emerged, I expected there to be mayhem in the house but it was very much as I left it, less some food that was in the press. It its place, however, were two dollars in silver. I was surprised at that. Two dollars wasn't enough to replace what they took but it certainly was more than I expected. I hadn't heard that Confederates had scruples.

I peeped through the shutters and didn't see anything else moving, but needing to be cautious, I stayed within. I put out the fire, not planning to give more visitors a hint to my existence. I was too fearful to mourn the loss of our livestock. I didn't want to think how I'd get through the winter without them.

The next morning, I heard distant gunfire coming from the north accompanied by the thunder of cannon-fire and I knew that a battle had begun. I jumped with each rattle of musketry and blast of cannons. Hopefully, they wouldn't get closer.

Occasionally, a rider would dash hell-for-leather down the highway but they paid my farm no notice. Later on, I saw another phalanx of men approaching from the south. I retreated into my cellar once more, but this time no scavengers stopped in. They had fighting to do, I supposed.

After they had passed, I ventured out once more. I found that staring into the dark of the cellar fanned my fears to greater heights, so it was best to stay out of it until necessary.

I could hear the battle getting closer as the day wore on. I wanted to see what I could and so I climbed the ladder to the loft, in order to peer out of its small window but I couldn't see much, just smoke in the direction of the fighting.

**July 2, 1863**

The next morning, I was startled away by a terrific blast. I had slept down in the cellar, to be sure of my safety if something came my way in the night. I looked around in a panic when suddenly another explosion made the very boards my house was built of shake and shudder as though it was in the grip of a tempest.

I curled up then, holding my knees close to my chest as my ears were assaulted by an unearthly roar of death and disaster. I couldn't help the tears that sprang to my eyes and I prayed every prayer I knew. Fear gripped my throat and throttled my breath for now the battle was overtaking my little home. If a cannonade landed here, I would be doomed.

I shook and shuddered for hours, not knowing exactly how much danger I was in. The shouts, screams, explosions, and the rattle of firearms echoed through my soul until, finally, a tremendous explosion seemed to erupt directly in the cellar with me.

I screamed and knew nothing else for a long while.

When my senses found me again, I wasn't quite sure where I was until, after scrabbling in the dark, I remembered. There had been a battle, but it was quiet now. I tested my limbs and was relieved to find no injury and so I decided I needed to get out of this self-imposed tomb.

After locating the tin of Lucifer matches, I lit the lantern and was pleased to see that the cellar was in good order. I listened closely and could hear nothing that would indicate there was anyone else in the house. Sliding the bolt back, I pushed the trap door open a crack and peered out.

It was dark.

I could hear crickets and the faint call of night birds but nothing else. I carefully laid the trap door back and crept out of the cellar. Standing in the middle of my shuttered house, I held up the lantern and could see that a whirlwind must have passed through. Had we been hit by a cannonball? No, the walls and roof seemed sturdy enough.

I made my way through the overturned furniture, broken plates, and books strewn across the floor to the open front door. Men must have come through while I was blessedly unconscious. I quietly shut the door and turned up the lamp. The shutters would keep its light from showing through the windows.

I stooped to pick up a basket of mending that had been kicked across the floor when I heard a groan coming from what had been my grandmother's bedroom. Frightened half out of my wits, I froze in place, my heart beat so hard that my vision faded to black. What was in that room? Rather, _who_ was in the room?

I didn't think to go down and get my father's old gun out of the cellar, so I grabbed a knife that had been knocked to the floor with the other cutlery. Creeping as silently as I could towards the bedroom door, I jumped when I heard a groan again.

I asked, "Wh-who's there?"

There was no response.

Gathering my courage, I held the lantern up so that I could see inside and my heart almost stopped in fear.

There was an injured man lying across Grandma's bed. His leg had a crude bandage on it that showed some blood seeping through. He was only wearing a shirt and light colored trousers with buff colored boots. I drew closer and asked, "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The man's eyes sprung open and he stared in shock when he saw me. Grappling for some purchase, he tried to sit up but it was beyond him and he only fell back mumbling, "Water."

I took a few steps closer, careful to keep out of his reach and studied him. His wound had been bandaged haphazardly and his pallor was an unhealthy shade. He twisted a little on the bed and groaned once more.

Shrugging, I pondered what I should do. Should I run to get help? No. There were bound to be other soldiers about and I doubt any of my neighbors would be willing to come.

Should I simply lock myself back into the cellar and let him be? Oh, please no. I couldn't bear the thought of climbing back down into that dark pit.

I turned the lantern to its brightest and studied the intruder.

He was tall, barely fitting upon the bed, and clean shaven, though I'd hazard it had been a day or so since his face had seen a razor. The planes of his face were strong; a firm jaw, high cheek bones, thick eyebrows, full lips, and a noble brow. His hair was abundant and his body lean, but fit.

I wondered where he was from. Was he a Yankee? Could he possibly be a Confederate? I couldn't tell from his clothing. He wore no jacket and his shirt hadn't any markings. His nondescript trousers were dirty and bloodstained so a color was hard to fathom.

He moaned again, mumbling something, and started to thrash. I began to fear he'd do himself more damage as well as my grandmother's counterpane that he was lying upon. I couldn't bear to have him destroy something that dear woman had labored so hard to make. He was too big for me to remove from my house but perhaps I could get him off of my grandma's quilt.

I pulled and shoved, and pushed until I got him onto the sheets. He seemed to hover on the brink of consciousness but didn't fight or respond as I struggled. I folded the quilt, then set about to pull the man's boots off his feet. Surely he couldn't rest comfortably wearing those.

I paused in my labors to wonder why I cared if this man was comfortable or not. He was an interloper and had scared me half-witless. He could well be the enemy. It would suit him justly if I left him to suffer and die or live as he could manage.

But then, what if it had been my father who had been wounded and had sought shelter in someone's house? What if the daughter of that house stumbled upon him? Wouldn't I hope she would offer him succor? Surely this man had a family who loved him, too. It would be shameful if I didn't offer comfort to one who was in need of it.

So, I got to work. His wound was angry, red, and swollen. He had been shot straight through the muscle of his thigh but the bone seemed sound. I could detect a hole where the bullet had entered his leg and another where it had passed through. That was all to the good but the wound was seeping a mixture of blood and pus—not a good sign at all.

His trousers were a shambles and truly would interfere with my nursing, so there was nothing for it but to have them off. Emboldened, I took my scissors and went to work. His shirt tails protected his modesty, and my blushes, and soon the encumbrance was gone.

Scrabbling around in my father's old chest of drawers, I found a half-empty bottle of spirits. Pa wasn't a drinking man, but on occasion, he'd imbibe-usually on the anniversary of my mother's passing. He'd drink enough to fall asleep, then Grandma and I would drag him to his bed and put away the whisky that he hadn't finished. Grandma had said men coped with sadness differently than women.

I poured some of the strong smelling liquid into a bowl half-filled with water, then with a moistened cloth, carefully cleaned his leg. I was able to use some needles to fish a scrap of cloth out of his wound. I knew if I didn't, it would cause his injury to fester, leading to an agonizing death.

The man groaned some as I worked but otherwise didn't rouse. I was glad of that, for I'm sure I caused him pain.

I climbed down into the cellar and got a small cask of honey and a jar of powdered golden seal. I mixed the two together and slathered it on his wound. That should take the sickness away. My grandmother was wise in the ways of healing and I had learned from her. I hoped the man would benefit by it.

Finally, I'd done all I could do for him and so set about trying to get my house back in order. Many things had been ruined for no good reason that I could tell and I cried a few bitter tears when I saw that my mother's Daguerreotype had been smashed to pieces. I should have thought to hide it away in the cellar to keep it safe. Before I could sink too far into the doldrums, my patient cried out, prompting me to hurry to his side.

His eyes were wide open and glassy. I leaned over him and said, "There, there sir. You are safe. The danger is past."

"Where's Tanya?" he asked, his voice most desperate.

Tanya must be his wife or sweetheart. Knowing how capricious the sick could be, I placated him as best I could. "She's just fine."

"Good." He laid back and shut his eyes, seeming to nod off again.

I pulled back the covers to check his wound. It hadn't worsened, thank God. I reapplied the salve and prayed the remedy would do the trick, else he'd have to see a surgeon. That would only end one of two ways-he'd have the limb taken from him entirely, or he'd die.

I sat by his bed the entire night, sponging his face to reduce the fever and sometime during the wee hours, I drifted off to sleep in the rocking chair that I had pulled next to his bed.

**July 3, 1863**

I was awakened at daybreak by the sound of marching men and the squeaks and rattles of wagons passing on the highway that ran down from my house. I jumped up and rushed to push the sideboard so that it would block the front door, in hopes it would deter foragers.

Once I got the door obstructed, I heard gun fire towards the east and I knew the battle was starting again. Though I was shaking with fear, I recognized that I had no time to cower. I had work to do. Under the noise of the waging battle, apparently further afield than yesterday, I heard a soft call. The soldier was stirring.

Returning to his side, I put my hand on his head, to check his fever. It had lessened. Pleased, I started to lift the sheet to cheek his leg when he said, "Water, please'm,"

I looked up to find him gazing at me. He had the clearest green eyes I'd ever seen. I hurried to get him a cup, glad that the cask of water I kept near the fire hadn't been overturned.

When I returned to his side, his eyes were closed again.

"Here's your water, sir." I put my arm behind him to help him sit up and held the cup to his lips. He drank it dry and seemed to want more.

"You'd better rest a bit, then I'll give you more. Too much at one time may disagree with you."

He nodded and fell back on pillow as though he'd no strength left. He was soon asleep and after checking his bandages, I decided to risk a fire so that I could get some healing broth made. He would have need of such when he woke again.

The battle was raging in the distance but my little farm seemed to be out of the line of fire today, thank God. I busied myself at the stove, checking occasionally on my patient and praying for our safety.

Along about noon, the soldier stirred again.

"I'm sorry ma'am…" his weak voice, "but I find I must…" he stopped. Surprisingly, the pallor in his cheeks had reddened some.

"Yes?" I had no idea what he could want.

"Please, ma'am. I'm … I need…" He looked about the room as though it would tell him the words he wanted.

"Are you thirsty?"

"No'm. I…I must make water." The last tailed off to silence. Finally realizing what was troubling him, my cheeks bloomed along with his.

"I see. But you can't arise with that leg. I shall bring you a bottle. Do you think you could manage…?"

"I believe so…"

Soon, I found a jar and if I slipped behind him to prop him up, he was able to deal with what was necessary outside of my view, thanks be to God. I easily disposed of the contents in the slop bucket and put the jar aside in case of future need. That wasn't so hard, I tried to convince myself. I'd done as much and worse for my grandmother, after all. This wasn't much different.

At least that was what I told myself. If I thought more on it, I'd die of mortification.

I needed to see to his wound, so I returned to the bed chamber with the salve and said, "It's time to dress your leg, sir. Just lie easy and I'll see to it."

"Mighty kindly of you, ma'am."

"'Tis mighty Christian of me, I think. I could do no less." I pulled back the cover and checked his leg. It still looked angry but it was apparent his fever had lessened and his wits were returning to him. I smoothed on the salve and replaced the bandages.

As I was turning to leave, I heard him ask, "Ma'am, how did I come to be here?"

"I don't know. I found you in my house last evening. You were alone and feverish."

He shook his head, his forehead lined in concentration. "I remember riding over a ridge when the world exploded and then I recall nothing until I awoke here."

"There were many more men through here yesterday, I think. They turned my house upside down. You were laid out on this bed-left behind."

He let out a great sigh. "I don't understand…"

I patted his hand as it lay across his chest and said, "'Tis hard to make sense out of these mad times, even if you aren't shot through. Rest now. I'll have some broth for you later." I left him to sleep.

I could still hear the fury of the battle in the distance, so I climbed up to the loft to see if I could see anything of the fighting. Peering out the small window, I saw the bright fire of cannons blazing away on a distant hill. The smoke from the guns lay heavy all around and in the sunlight, it cast an eerie glow. There must be such a terrible carnage there.

Looking closer at hand, I moaned. The farm had been torn apart. Fences were ripped down and the garden was in shreds. I gasped when I saw that the barn had a whole side caved in as though cannon had leveled it. I had no notion as to how Pa and I would ever get the money to replace what was now gone. That is, if I ever saw Pa again. I was half surprised he'd not come my way if General Meade was in the area, but perhaps he hadn't come to this battle. Where ever he was, I prayed he was safe. Last I heard he was in Chancellorsville, Virginia.

Climbing down from the loft, I went to the kitchen to make the broth I had promised. Fear and worry twisted my innards to the point I didn't feel like eating a bite. The constant blast of cannon in the distance made my hands shake and I was very close to weeping but, I reminded myself, now was not the time for a conniption.

Later in the day, the gentleman awoke and asked for the jar again. He seemed apologetic but there was nothing for it, 'less he wanted to water the bed.

After I had checked his wound, I said, "I made some broth. It will raise your spirits, I am certain."

I helped him to sit up and plumped the pillow behind him. Then, I gingerly spoon-fed the soup to him, trying not to spill, though my hands were shaking. He said nothing to me but I could feel his gaze. I concentrated on the bowl, the trembling spoon, and his full lips. I dared not to look in his eyes for fear he'd see how unnerved I was.

As I put down the empty bowl, he asked, "Are they still fighting?"

"Yes. To the east today."

"I thought so. I can hear it."

"Yes, but is further off than yesterday."

He nodded. "I wonder how it goes?"

"I've no idea. I haven't stirred from the house and all I can see from the loft window is destruction." I swallowed and looked towards the shuttered window, my nervous fingers pleating the skirt of my dress.

"I have been neglectful, ma'am. My name is Edward Cullen. Thank you for being so good to me."

"You're welcome, Mr. Cullen."

It would do no harm to introduce myself, as well. "My name is Isabella Swan."

"Are you by yourself?"

I was startled a bit by his question but there was no use to prevaricate. "Mr. Swan has gone to war and my…my grandmother died some days ago."

His hand reached out towards me as he said, "I'm sorry."

His gaze caught my eyes and I was surprised to find true sympathy there. "Thank you. She was very dear to me."

"What caused her passing?"

"The Typhoid." I sighed. "In fact, sir, I'm sorry to say that this house is under quarantine until the middle of this month. You may recover from your wound only to die of the disease."

"That doesn't worry me a mite. But are _you_ sick, ma'am?"

"I don't feel sick but they say it could take a while before the illness appears."

"And here I come to burden you. I am purely sorry for it, ma'am."

"It wasn't your choice, was it? Someone brought you here without you being aware of it. And truly, your care has distracted me from worry."

"Do you have a weapon, ma'am?"

"A gun?" Why would he want a gun? I didn't even think to ask him the side he's on. Maybe he thinks to take me prisoner if he's the enemy?

"Yes'm. A gun will keep other interlopers away. I'd feel better if you had some protection."

"I've been safe enough until now."

"Yes'm but war has a habit of turning good men bad. Since Mr. Swan isn't here…"

I hesitated a bit, then said, "He did leave me his old musket."

"Can you fire it?"

"I can."

"Then you should keep it near at hand."

"Supposing you are right."

He didn't answer, only smiled, and I was struck at how fetching a man he was. In fact, he was quite handsome. My heart beat a little faster and my thoughts started to fly down paths it had no business going. I needed to remind myself of the very real danger this man was to me. There was one way to do that.

"Where are you from, Mr. Cullen?"

A shadow crossed his face and his smile faded. "My home is called _Bel Aire_. 'Tis been a long time since I've seen it."

"Bel Aire? Is that in Pennsylvania?"

"No, ma'am."

I waited for him to tell me exactly where his home was but he didn't. He only stared warily at me. The longer the silence, the more I realized I knew what his answer would be.

"Supposing you're from the south, then?"

Softly, he answered, "Yes, ma'am. I'm from Virginia."

* * *

I scrubbed the bowl once more, hardly noticing it was perfectly clean. My mind was in turmoil.

_I had a rebel in my house! And I had nursed him! What would the neighbors think? What would my father think? What would happen if Northern soldiers came through and found him with me? Before, I had worried about my reputation but now not only would I lose my honor, would I also be considered a traitor? They shot those, didn't they?_

Oh, my word, what was I going to do? I was trembling as tears started to blur my vision. I was so overset, I didn't realize that Mr. Cullen had somehow managed to get out of bed and hobble into the main room.

"I will not hurt you, ma'am. I give you my word."

I swung around and saw him standing unsteadily in the bedroom door way, his shirt hanging to mid-thigh, his weight on his good leg, and his hand holding him steady against the door frame.

"Mr. Cullen, you'll harm yourself!"

Without thought, I rushed to his side, wrapped my arm about his waist, and pulled his arm about my neck to lead him back towards the bed. "I didn't work so hard to keep you alive to have you turn my work upside down."

"But Mrs. Swan, I am sincere when I say that I'll not harm a hair on your head. I give you my word as a gentleman."

_Mrs. Swan?_ Did he not know I was an unmarried lady? I opened my mouth to correct him but after a moment's thought, shut it again. Maybe it was better this way.

I got him settled back into bed and checked his wound to make sure he'd not harmed it by his acrobatics. All seemed well, thank God.

Tucking the sheet back up to his chest, I said, "I know you shall not hurt me but 'tis others that worry me."

"Others?"

"Other soldiers, my neighbors and friends."

"I understand about marauding soldiers but why your neighbors and friends?"

"Wouldn't they consider the aid I've given you treason? Besides, we've been under the same roof without a chaperone. I've tended your injury and saw to your needs. Even if the soldiers don't discover you, Gettysburg will think poorly of me and I'll have no reputation left."

He was quiet at that. I poured some more water for him then turned to leave but before I could go, he grabbed my hand.

"I will make certain your name is not impugned. I will leave your house before anyone discovers me."

"It may be many days, sir, before you can walk well enough to venture outside of the house, nevertheless half-way across the countryside. Leaving before the fever has completely left is the same as a death sentence and I'll not have that on my conscience."

He didn't respond and so I thought I had put an end to his wild idea. We would simply have to be circumspect. The fact that my house was under quarantine gave us some time.

He had nothing to say to my comments and so he slumped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I busied myself around the room, when I realized that I hadn't heard any cannon fire or other sounds of war for some time.

"Mr. Cullen, do you think the battle's ended?"

He lifted his head and listened. "The guns have stopped. Mayhap."

"How would you know for sure?"

"One side would march away and the other would stay or give chase."

"That would probably be hard to discover from inside a house."

He was nodding in agreement when we heard a shout coming from the direction of the highway. I ran to the front room and peeked through a crack in the shutter and saw the highway filled with Confederate soldiers marching quick time away from Gettysburg.

I watched them for a bit and then went back to the bedroom to report what I had seen to Mr. Cullen but found him sound asleep. I guessed that all the earlier activity was a bit too much for him.

I spent the remainder of the evening trying to be as quiet as I could, venturing down into the root cellar to fetch the musket as Mr. Cullen suggested. I must admit, I did feel a little safer with it nearer at hand.

Suddenly feeling hungry for the first time in days, I ate some of the food that I had hoarded in the cellar. As I ate, I pondered. It seemed that the Confederate army was leaving. Had they been defeated? If they left the area, what would happen to Mr. Cullen? Surely, I couldn't hide him for long. I truly had no earthly idea what I was going to do.

Once again, I spent the night in the rocking chair in the sick room. My patient slept peacefully and it appeared that the fever was leaving his body as his wound healed. Perhaps he could leave sooner than I had earlier suspected.

I studied him as he slept. His long, thick eye lashes would be the envy of any girl. His lips were full and now that his pallor had improved, I could see he had a clear, fair complexion. His hands, folded on his chest, had long, artistic fingers and I began to believe he must have been quite the swain in his home town. I was sure he would cut a dashing figure once he left me and returned there.

Curiously, the notion that he would leave left me unsettled. He seemed a good man and he was surely handsome. His manners were kind and gentlemanly. I wondered what would have happened had he been one of the local boys. Would he have been someone I would have danced with and hoped to have court me? But wait. Didn't he call out for a lady named Tanya? She may be his sweetheart, or worse yet, wife.

I drifted off to sleep thinking of these things and it wasn't a wonder that my dreams were painted with the flash of green eyes, firm lips and a soft voice that whispered the name, "_Tanya."_

**July 4, 1863**

In the morning, Mr. Cullen was able to take some gruel and milky coffee. I was delighted to see his improvement.

"You have a strong constitution, sir. You're well on the way to mending."

"I'm sure that any improvement has more to do with my excellent nurse than anything God has blessed me, though I'm thankful for both," he said as he handed the empty mug back to me.

I smiled at his compliment and went to put the cup away.

"Mrs. Swan, may I ask where my trousers are? I feel a mite exposed without them."

"I'm afraid they were ruined by your injury and, even then, I had to cut what was left of them off so that I could tend to your wound. I believe there are some garments about that you could have."

I went to my father's dresser and rummaged around until I found his Sunday-g0-to-meeting clothes in the bottom drawer still wrapped in tissue paper.

I placed the parcel on the foot of the bed. "This was Mr. Swan's. He has no need of it now, I reckon. Soldiering doesn't require Sabbath clothing."

"Will he be upset that I took this, ma'am?"

I laughed and answered, "I'd venture he'd rather that you wore his clothes than continue to sashay 'round in front of me in just your shirt."

He spluttered a laugh. "I suppose you're right about that. I do apologize for my indelicacy."

"'Tis not a worry for me. I'm purely pleased that you're well enough to have need for them. Do you believe you shall want my help in putting them on?"

"No, ma'am. I'm fairly certain I can manage."

I left him to it and went into the main room to tend to some chores. I heard some shuffling about but he never called me and when I finally returned to the bedroom, I found he was wearing the trousers and sitting in the old rocker I'd pulled next to the bed.

"You need to prop that leg," I said as I pushed over a footstool and grabbed a pillow to cushion the wood. He smiled his thanks when I was done. I have to admit I was momentarily dazed by the dimple that appeared near his mouth.

Gathering my wits, I asked, "You feeling rightly, sitting up and all?"

"I'm surprised at how weak I am."

"That's to be expected. You were wounded just two days ago but you're doing quite well, truly. Now that your fever has passed, you'll mend quickly."

I was blushing a bit—that dimple had me all aflutter—and so to cover my discomfort, I began to straighten the bed.

He watched me, then asked, "Do you know how the battle is passing?"

"I think it's done. It's been raining all morning and I've not heard any guns since yesterday afternoon. I did see some rebels marching down the road last night."

"Where they traveling north or south?"

"South."

He was quiet after that.

It was silent outside except for the rain, which would come in bursts then ease off then again, like water pumping from a well. Good farmer's daughter that I am, I welcomed the weather. The crops needed it.

Then I remembered there were no crops now.

I decided to chance on going out to see exactly what devastation had befallen the farm. The rain had been steady all day and I was hoping my water barrels hadn't been upended, or worse, destroyed.

Gingerly, I lifted the bar on the door that led to the barnyard and eased it open, trying not to gasp at what was revealed. I looked out on complete desolation. The barn was destroyed and my gardens were churned to mud by the hooves and boots that had passed through. The fences were down and I couldn't see a sign of a hen. I was positive our cattle were gone as well. The mist rose, deadening the outlines of things further afield but what I saw near at hand was almost more than I could take.

Pulling my shawl over my head to ward off the rain, I climbed down the porch steps and picked my way across the yard to see if there was anything salvageable. It didn't seem like there was. The barn would have to be torn down and rebuilt. Perhaps its wood could be repurposed but a lot of it wasn't good for anything but kindling.

Sighing, I walked around the back of the barn near my father's old wheat field. As I rounded its wooden carcass, my nose was suddenly tickled by a sweetly sick smell; a cross between a skunk and putrefied honey, but not exactly. I ne'er smelled the like before.

Through the rain, I could see across the field into the distance towards town. There wasn't a tree left standing in the copse and there were curious humps thrown up here and there amidst broken wagons and cannon and dead horses as far as I could see. It looked very strange—unnatural and eerie in the drizzly mist.

I realized that I wasn't alone in my visit to the rainy battle field. Far off, I could see a party of men and a wagon. They looked to be carefully scrutinizing those strange humps. I watched them until I saw one man stoop down and then give a shout. His companions hurried over, then carefully lifted up the "hump" which I now could see was the body of a man and carried him to the wagon.

I gasped and then looked closer at the "humps" nearby and I could tell, without a doubt, these were dead men, and they were everywhere I looked.

That horrible smell was from their rotting corpses.

I screamed and in a mixture of shock and panic, I fell against a remaining barn wall and struggled not to lose my wits. My stomach convulsed and I lost what little breakfast I had eaten. The world seemed to tunnel in on me as I tore off my shawl and wiped my mouth. The rain turned once again into a downpour and I lifted my face to the heavens, trying to wash those awful images away.

_Oh, God_.

No other words would come_. _

_Oh, God. _

I had to get back to the house, bar the door, and strive to lock out the hellish nightmare that lay at my feet, across my farm, and over everything I'd ever known.

_Oh, God._

I staggered around the barn and across the yard, a low, keening, cry ripping at my heart, tearing at my chest. I haltingly climbed the porch stairs and stumbled through the door, slamming it shut behind me. I shoved the bar home and slid down to the floor, desperate to clear my senses of the smell, and my brain of the sight of them.

_Oh, God_.

"Missus, is all well?"

I'd forgotten about my wounded soldier.

_Oh, dear God_.

I was sobbing now in my distress and couldn't seem to get to grips. Part of me understood I must be disturbing Mr. Cullen, but there was another part of me that had no control of my tears and trembling. I rose from the floor and lurched across the room to slump against the kitchen table, tears still streaming down my face, my sobs unabated.

It was a while before I noticed the hand on my shoulder and the gentle voice saying, "Dear Isabella, be at ease. You are safe."

I lifted my head and saw Edward leaning heavily against the table as he tried to console me. Without thought or reasoning, I turned to him and pressed my face into his chest to seek the comfort that I knew he could give. I felt his arms wrap around me and we sank together onto the nearby chair. I was seated on his lap and held in his arms and I cared not except that it was the only place that could answer my distress. I didn't worry about propriety or the fact I was soaked through from the rain. All I knew that comfort was his to give me and I surrendered to it.

I don't know how long we sat together, me crying, him soothing, but eventually I realized my surroundings enough that my conscience pricked me. Mr. Cullen's leg must be throbbing and here I was wailing like a baby. I tried to pull away from him but he still held me tightly, his lips at my brow and soft, comforting words caressing my ears.

"There, Isabella, there. The battle is o'er and their suffering is ended. You are safe with me. I shall see that none will harm you."

My face was nestled in his neck and I could almost hear his heartbeat. But a small, inner voice reminded me that this wouldn't do. 'Twasn't seemly.

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, I saw such terrible sights," I said in a choked voice as I carefully stood from his arms.

"The battlefield is covered with dead. I didn't notice those poor men at first. I thought they were mounds of soil dug up by some hellish contrivance but they were men, horribly twisted and still. The smell of them…" I choked and turned away.

"If I had known your intent to leave the house, I would have warned you—stopped you if I could. I had thought the rain would keep you inside. No gentlewoman should see such and I am right sorry you did."

"_No_ _one _should ever see such, Mr. Cullen. Each of those men most likely has someone who will grieve for them when the truth of their death is learned. War isn't fit for man nor woman, sir, and that's the truth of it!"

"There are some causes that are fitting to die for, ma'am."

"I can't think of a one."

We were silent as we took the measure of each other. His grave eyes studying me, as though he was waiting for a sign.

"Do you love this land, Mrs. Swan?"

"Our farm? Why, yes, I suppose I do. It's all I've known. I was born here."

"What if you were told you could no longer have the choice over your own land, ma'am. That a government in a faraway city would take precedence over any decision you'd make, down to the crops you'd plant and the money you'd be allowed to sell them for?"

"I suppose that wouldn't please me at all."

"What if those constrictions became so great that the state of Pennsylvania decided to break away from that federal tyranny? What would you do? Would you leave your home?"

"Well no, I wouldn't wish to..."

"Then, you'll see my dilemma. As Virginia goes, so must I, even though it has meant I must deliver carnage as much as receive it."

"But this war is mostly about abolition, I thought."

"It is for some, but not I. I have never owned another soul, nor shall I ever."

This surprised me because word was all Confederates were staunch supporters of slavery. It made no sense.

"Isn't _Bel Aire_ a plantation?"

He laughed, suddenly breaking the somber mood. "No ma'am, it's just a house, not much bigger than this one, on some few acres sitting atop a broad hill overlooking the Potomac River. My father is the local doctor and we only farm enough to keep ourselves in vittles. I've been to the University, but as of yet haven't decided on my profession. War puts paid to so many plans."

"Aye, that it does." I was thinking of all the summer cotillions I had been planning to attend the year the war broke out. They seemed a vain pursuit now.

"You have family, sir?"

"Yes, my mother and father and two sisters and two more righteous belles you'd never see. They can out talk a parrot and out dance any lad brave enough to ask them." I could tell by his playful look that he was extremely fond of them.

I was about to ask another question when I shivered, finally reminded of my soaked attire. "I must get out of these, else I will catch cold and you will have to tend to me rather than the other way around."

"Turnabout is fair play. I'd be honored to be of assistance to you in any way."

Feeling a little better, I hurried into my chamber and was soon into fresh clothes, letting my hair down so that it would dry more quickly. When I reappeared, I had another one of my father's old shirts for Mr. Cullen to change into since I'd soaked the one he had been wearing.

"I'm afraid you have on the only pair of britches in the house, sir, but perhaps you'll benefit from a shirt that is less damp?"

He had an arrested look on his face as he studied me but managed to nod his thanks. I turned to start some tea in order to warm us on the inside as well as give him privacy while he changed.

"My sister, Rosalie, has hair like yours, ma'am. Well, not in the color but in the quality, how it catches the light and looks like silk."

I was flustered at his compliment but managed to mumble a "Thank you." His kind words did curious things to my heart.

We spent the rest of the day talking about his family and his home.

"So, you live at _Bel Aire_ with your mother and father and two sisters, Rosalie and Alice? I thought there would be someone else?"

"No, there's no one else."

I just had to ask the next question. "Well, then, who is Tanya?"

He looked mightily surprised. "Tanya? How do you know of her?"

"You called out for her in your delirium that first night. I thought she may be special to you."

"She's very special but only in an equine way. She's my horse. She came to war with me." He looked sad then, probably thinking of her likely fate.

"I hope she's well, sir."

"It's my hope, too, but let's not dwell on what we can't help." And so he was off telling me another story.

His tales did me the double benefit of distracting me from what I had seen and showing me the life Mr. Cullen was so set upon preserving. I could see a shade of homesickness when he told of the beautiful forests and rolling hills that surrounded his home, and also when he spoke of family gatherings and singing together on the veranda at the end of the day.

Before we knew it, many hours had passed and I hadn't once thought of the p0or wretches I'd seen. Early on, I brought the ottoman from the front room, so Mr. Cullen could be more comfortable as he rested his leg. I could almost say we spent a pleasant day together as he talked and I cooked and did my handwork. His words painted lovely pictures of his home and by the end of the day, I was almost as enraptured with _Bel Aire_ as he was.

I helped him into his bedroom that night feeling closer to him than I ever had and regretted that we'd never have the chance to nurture our friendship.

**July 5, 1863**

I was hopeful his homeland stories would be what I'd dream about but I was certainly wrong about that. The minute I fell asleep, I seemed to hear nothing but marching feet and saw the mangled remains of soldiers staring up at me from the torn earth. I wanted to run away but for some reason was compelled to draw closer to the one lying on the ground closest to me. There was something familiar about him, something that made my heart beat faster the closer I got. When I could finally look into his face, I screamed as I recognized Edward Cullen's dead eyes looking straight at me. The horrible grief that rushed over me was all-consuming.

"Isabella, Isabella awaken, dear heart. You're dreaming."

Edward was sitting on the side of my bed and pushing the hair away from my forehead.

"Oh, you're here! I had a terrible nightmare that you were one of the men in the field today!" I had to put my arms about him and hold him close. "I thought you were dead."

He squeezed me tightly then looked down into my face. "As you can see, I'm hale and hearty, all thanks to you. Now, go back to sleep. It's still the early hours of the morning and you need to rest."

He struggled to stand but I held him back. "No, Edward, don't leave me. I couldn't bear it."

He blinked and then said, "I shall sit in this chair near your bedside, ma'am."

"But your leg needs to be propped. Have no worry about propriety for we've been without it these past days. We can bundle like they did in the olden times. I trust that you'll not take advantage. It's just that when you're near, I forget…" My fear and horror must have been palpable and I could see him relent.

"You can trust me, of course, ma'am. I shall not leave you tonight. Here, slide over and I'll lie upon the coverlet with you under it."

I did as he requested and soon I was snuggled under his arm with my head resting upon his shoulder. It felt completely right and I sighed in relief. "Thank you, sir. You're truly a gentleman."

He chuckled and pulled me close. "I'm proud to say my mother did right by me. Now, goodnight, my beauty, and sleep."

You'd have thought that such a strange and unusual circumstance—having a man in bed with me for the first time—would have done the opposite and kept me awake the night through but it didn't. Within minutes I was asleep and if I dreamed, I didn't remember a bit of it.

I didn't awaken again until I heard someone pounding at my front door the next morning and both Edward and I shot up in bed as though we'd been scalded.

"Isabella! Cousin! Are you in there? Do you live?" I heard Jacob's voice as he pounded on the door.

Hurriedly, I slid out of bed, beckoning Edward to be quiet as I pulled my shawl around my shoulders.

I went to the door, unlocked it, and cracked it open to see Jacob's worried face. "I'm fine, Jacob."

"Oh, I'm so happy to see you! The first chance I got, I ran over here. The Reb's lost the battle, Bella! They're going away."

"So, 'tis safe to venture forth?" I asked.

"Well, I suppose Doc's still got you under quarantine but the rest of us can move about and we shall have to. There's a heap of a mess to clean up with dead soldiers lying everywhere. Folk are starting to gather the bodies and try to find those that still may be living. It's just as well you stay inside, Bella. It's not a good thing for a woman to witness."

"Hmm…" was all I said, not wanting to admit to what I'd witnessed in these past days.

"I'd best get back home. Mother won't be pleased that I came here without her knowing. Do you need anything?"

"No, at the moment I am fine. You go home and tell the folks that my house was spared as well as myself, thanks be to God."

"I will, Bella. I shall see you tomorrow."

"I appreciate that, Jacob. Thank you."

I shut the door, locked it, and turned to find Edward standing in the doorway of my bedroom watching me.

"He said Lee's army is leaving Gettysburg?"

"Yes. They started to leave in the night."

Edward pressed his lips together and nodded his head.

I could see his consternation and so I rushed to say, "Don't worry, Mr. Cullen. You can stay here until all the uproar has died down. My house is under quarantine for at least another week and by that time, your leg should be almost good as new. I may be able to locate a horse for you so you can slip out and head for the southern lines, just as those soldiers have.

A small smile was all he gave me.

Just then, I realized I was standing in front of Mr. Cullen in naught but a shawl and nightgown and so, I quickly excused myself and got dressed, not thinking too much of his response.

Mr. Cullen was quiet most of the day, taking the opportunity to walk around as much as he could. I'd found an old cane for him to use that must have been my grandfather's and after a bit, he was very good at navigating the house.

That night when it was time for bed, he took me aside and said, "If I haven't thanked you before, Mrs. Swan, I'll thank you now. I don't know what I would have done without your tender care. You will always be my angel and I will consider you a blessing in my life until the day I die."

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, you give me too much credit. You took my mind off of a dreadful day and I'd call your presence here every bit of a blessing for me as you say I am for you."

He took my hand and looked intently into my eyes, almost making me bashful.

"I would only ask for one more thing, ma'am."

"Anything, Mr. Cullen, anything."

"I have no right to ask but I'm too weak not to." He cleared his throat then said, "May I embrace you?"

I was shocked, but my surprise soon turned to wondrous amazement. He wanted to kiss me? In my wildest imaginings, I never dreamed this. Shyly, I answered, "Yes, please, sir."

He lifted his hand to my cheek and gently turned my face up to his as he hesitantly leaned down to touch his lips, those lips I had been so mesmerized by, to mine.

I gasped at the sensation. I'd never felt the like. His lips were soft and full. At my gasp, he parted his and suddenly I was jolted by a painless fire. His arms wrapped around me and mine about him as our souls joyously communed-not our minds, nor our bodies, but our hearts. Without words, our kiss was a commitment.

He pulled away long before I wanted and I stood in his arms, sighing, and dreamy-eyed, gazing up at him in wonder.

"Isabella,…" he began.

"Shhhh," I said. "I know." Words would take away from this perfection and I wanted nothing to ruin it.

He stepped away, his eyes filled with unspoken feeling. I nodded and said, "Goodnight, Edward. Sleep well."

That night there were no nightmares, just sweet dreams of Edward, his lips, his arms and that dear look in his eyes when he gazed at me.

When I awoke in the morning, he was gone.

* * *

The next few months passed in a daze. I was sure Edward felt he had to leave to protect me, but it was a sincere grief that he was gone. I suppose it was better I hadn't known his plans because I would have put up a fight trying to persuade him to stay. It was better this way, but it was hard to convince my heart of it.

I had not much time to pine, though. Later that week, Jacob brought me a packet of letters, which at first I thought were from my father, but they were mine—the ones I had sent him along with his pocket watch and pipe. My father had died of dysentery in Chancellorsville, weeks before Meade had marched to Pennsylvania to meet with Lee. It was the blow I had been dreading but it just seemed to be more of the same bitter feast I had been experiencing ever since my grandmother died.

My Uncle, Jacob's father, tried to convince me to sell the farm but I remembered Edward's words, _"Do you love this land?"_ I knew I couldn't leave.

I was in bad stead, though. The barn was a shambles and had to be torn down and rebuilt. Some neighbors and friends eventually helped me to do that but not for almost a year after the battle. There had been so much else to see to first.

Clearing up after the battle was gruesome. Great pyres were built where the carcasses of slain horses and mules were burnt, the smell choking the throats of all for miles around and for days at a time. Men were buried where they lay, to be dug up and reburied in months, even years later when more suitable memorials were created for them.

My quarantine passed, with nary a sign of the Typhoid, so the doctor put me to work nursing wounded men in the dozens of tents set up for the purpose outside the town. My grandma's potions and salves were in great demand but there were some that were too far gone for them to take hold and they died just the same.

I was no longer fearful as I had been in the days before the battle, for I had surely lost almost everything I loved. For me, fear had been replaced by overwhelming grief, something I knew I shared with my neighbors.

"_Four score and seven years ago today, our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men were created equal."_

_ -__Abraham Lincoln,__ The Gettysburg Address_

That November, I stood in the new graveyard with the other people of Gettysburg and listened to our burdened President speak of honor, liberty, and sorrow, as well. He reminded us to persevere so that what had been sacrificed wouldn't have been lost in vain. Amen, we said and life went on.

In the spring, I leased my father's fields and replanted my vegetable garden. The doctor convinced me to sell some of grandma's medicines, and in that way I kept body and soul together. Still, every night before I slept, I prayed for Edward's safety and wondered if he ever thought of me.

Another year passed and the war was over. Now, we could go back to our lives and focus on things other than the havoc man could bring to one another.

But there was still no word from Edward.

**May 1872**

Enough time had passed since those four July days that I was able to quash almost all thoughts of Edward Cullen. It wasn't sound of me to dwell, so I grew my vegetables and herbs, made my medicines, and tried to take joy in the old things.

Years went by. Sometimes, a gentleman would attempt to stir my interest but he soon found that there was none to stir, and so he went as quickly as he came.

I was content in my little house, but not joyous. It was enough.

Then, one day as I was looking for something to borrow from the lending library in town, I stumbled upon a set of volumes called _The United States Census of 1870_. I paused in wonder. Didn't a census list every person in the land? My hands got clammy. Perhaps now I could discover the answers that had plagued me for seven years.

I pulled out the volume that contained the information for Virginia, and then sat down at an out of the way table as I didn't want to draw the attention of my nosy neighbors.

I turned each page until I found one that included _Bel Aire_. I was surprised at how my finger shook as it ran down the column of names.

I stopped breathing when I finally found his name: _Edward Cullen._ I gasped and looked away for a moment trying to regain my composure.

But my heart was throbbing with excitement!

Edward had survived the war! He lived!

I went back home in a daze. I wondered again how Edward faired after he left me. Had his wound healed completely? Did he pass the rest of the war safely?

I simply had to know and so that night, after several hours tossing and turning in a fruitless quest for sleep, I arose, lit my lamp and started to write.

_May 15__th__, 1872_

_Dear Mr. Cullen,_

_I hope this letter is not an intrusion, but I find I cannot live another day without addressing you now that I know you live._

_Censuses are curious things. They are nothing but lists of names and circumstances but they answer many a burning question if one knows where to look-and I did look. I was delighted to find that you had survived the war and were now home at your beloved _Bel Aire_._

_Over the years, I spent many a day thinking and wondering where you were and if you lived and if you were happy. _

_You would think I should be satisfied with the knowledge that I have gained today-that you lived and are home- but I am not. I want to know how you lived, and how you fared, and how you are?_

_But, alas, I am too bold or I've been too lonely these last years. _

_You see, my father did not return home from the war. Yes, my father-for I wasn't Mrs. Swan, as you had assumed, I was Miss Swan. Forgive me for letting you believe otherwise, but at the time I felt it was a better course to follow._

_In the years since we last met, I've rebuilt my barn and replanted my gardens. But though I've tried to pick up the reins of living that the war had made me drop, I still can't stop thinking about those four days in July and the time I spent with you._

_Again, please forgive me if this letter is unwelcome and I will surely understand if you want those memories, and myself, to remain in the past, but I at least wanted to tell you that I am so very happy you lived._

_Very truly yours,_

_Miss Isabella Swan_

_Gettysburg, Pennsylvania_

I sealed the letter and went back to bed only to arise before the rooster to walk into town to meet the mail. It wasn't until I was returning home did I begin to have misgivings.

_What if my letter was too bold?_

_What if he was married?_

_What if he didn't remember me?_

I tortured myself for days with these questions to the point I was considering taking to drink as my father had when his worry and grief grew too much.

Weeks passed and still I didn't hear. I reckoned it would take a while for the letter to reach him and then a while for him to write back and finally, a while for the post office to deliver it to me. But, none ever came.

I moped for a month or so, at turns excruciatingly embarrassed I had written at all and at others, perturbed he hadn't at least responded. But, on this day, as there was every day, work was to be done and so I put on my apron, my straw hat, and went out into the garden to hoe.

After working for a bit, there was a tap on my shoulder and a soft voice say, "Excuse me, Miss Swan, but no one answered your door."

I stood up straight, staring directly ahead as the hoe dropped from my suddenly nerveless fingers. I swallowed the goose egg that seemed to have lodged in my throat and said in a shaky voice, "Is that you, Mr. Cullen?"

He chuckled and said, "Indeed it is."

I spun around with wide eyes and I once again beheld his dear face. "It's you!"

He held his arms out to me and I flew to them. Clasping me tightly to his chest, we laughed as he spun me around in mad pirouettes.

When he lowered me back to the ground, I said "You're here!"

"I am."

"But you left me." My voice caught at the remembered heartbreak.

"I did to protect you. It was just a matter of time before someone would discover you had been sheltering me and I couldn't bear the thought of the trouble that would bring you, so I left. It didn't take me long to meet up with General Lee's Army. The rest of the war passed for me as it had started: horror stacked upon horror. I was glad when it was over, to be honest, and I could return home."

"Why didn't you write to me?"

"Well_, Miss_ Swan, I thought you were actually _Mrs._ Swan. I felt silence would be easier for you and the loyalty you owed to your husband. It would be hard enough for you to explain what happened to his trousers."

"It wasn't easy for me! I've missed you every day since you've left."

"I know it was dishonorable of me to ask to kiss you that day, but the memory of it kept me warm many a cold night since."

We had been walking towards the house as we spoke. I climbed the first step and then turned to face him so that we were eye to eye. "The memory of that kiss is what kept _me_ hopeful."

"Hopeful?"

"Indeed, because when we kissed I knew there would never be another for me. That kiss did more than keep me warm, it kept me unwavering."

With a smile, he peeled off his hat and asked, "Well then, Miss Swan, may I have permission to kiss you again?"

I took off _my_ hat and repeated what I had said all those years ago, "Yes, please, sir."

And so we kissed.

And my southern gentleman never left me again.

* * *

AN: Much thanks to all who voted for this in the 2013 Age of Edward Contest. I was truly flattered and honored to have it be ranked as first in the popular vote for Young Adult and selected by Dreamweaver94's judges choice. The rest of this story takes place after Edward returns and told in the third person.

Historical Notes: Half the fun of writing these is doing the research on it. Gettysburg was surprised to find itself in the center of our national Trauma in 1863. Close to 50,000 men lost their lives during those three days in July. I highly suggest that you visit Gettysburg as it stands today. The battlefield has been lovingly and honorably restored to its time during the war. It's an awe inspiring, tragic place. It still gives me goose bumps when I remember my journey there.

Bel Aire, Edward's home is based on a real home in Prince William County, Virginia, called Bel Air. If you google search Bel Air Historic House Blog, you'll see it as it stands today. A beautiful Georgian gem.

The census wasn't to be found bound in libraries (Gettysburg's public library was then, as it is now, on Baltimore Street.) But they started binding them in indexes in the mid-1800s. It was, however, unlikely for Bella to have found them in a public library in Gettysburg so close to their publication. Please pardon me for taking this liberty with the story.


	2. Chapter 2 Honor

The Southerner

Chapter One: Honor

The man sat atop his horse, one hand on his hip, the reins loosely gathered in the other, and studied the fertile land below him. It was a pleasant view. The lushly growing crops were interspersed with green woods, verdant pastures, and grazing cattle. Here and there were small-holdings with their tidy white houses and red barns. It was a vision of perfect peace and a far cry from what he remembered.

He clucked to his horse and continued down the lane to the farm below. This particular farm didn't look as prosperous as its neighbors. He frowned when he noticed the un-mended fences, the fields gone to seed, the house itself needing paint and had a shutter hanging loosely from one hinge. Gritting his teeth, he recognized the signs of hard times. It was all too common a scene in his homeland, but he was surprised to see it here where the victors lived. He knew what the difference was in this case—his own neglect.

He rode up to the front of the cottage and tied his horse's reins to the hitching post in front. The porch stairs creaked as he climbed them, his old limp evident after the long ride, and his frown more pronounced than before. Pulling off his hat, he knocked at the door and ran a hand through his thick, auburn hair as he waited, but there was no answer.

Looking around for signs of habitation, he noted the clean, white curtain fluttering in the open window and the flower pot filled with a brightly blooming geranium that sat on its sill. Putting his hat back on, he descended the porch stairs and walked around to the back of the house.

He pulled up short when he saw the inadequate barn that stood there. He'd never seen its predecessor in its glory, but he knew this one fell far short of replacing it. It was more of a shed than a barn. He shook his head but then he saw the well-ordered garden plots that bordered the barn yard. At least those were seeming to thrive here.

Then he saw her.

Her back was to him as she hoed a neat row of vegetables, but he knew her. His heart gave a curious lurch as he quickly walked to where she stood in her garden and completely unaware of his presence.

He smiled as he tapped her on her shoulder. "Excuse me, Miss Swan, but no one answered your door."

The hoe clattered to the ground as the woman straightened and stared straight ahead. Her voice was shaky as she asked, "Is that you, Mr. Cullen?"

"Indeed it is." She sounded so incredulous, he couldn't hide his laughter.

She spun around and cried, "It's you!"

Without much thought, he held his arms out and she ran to him. He swung her around as he pulled her tightly to his chest. The severe look on his face had faded to one of gladness the minute he had seen her.

It seemed natural not to let her go when he set her back down on her feet.

She said, "You're here!" Her smile could light the sun.

"I am," he answered.

With those two words, he realized several things. First, though it had been necessary that he leave all those years ago, he should have seen to her welfare long before he received her letter, regardless of what he believed her marital state to be. Secondly, for all his neglect, she seemed over the Moon at his appearance. And thirdly, it was his duty to see to her well-being from now on.

Since he received her letter, he had begun to feel some guilt over the kiss he had asked for before he left all those years ago. Thinking she was a matron at the time, he believed he was only asking for a small token, something to remember, and not of much significance to the lady. But the recent letter disclosed that she hadn't been wed.

He had not only taken that kiss, he had unknowingly taken her innocent heart. She was something pure that he'd sullied. After all she had given him without counting the cost—his health, her tender care, her unwavering faith-no matter how it endangered her. He must make amends, even if it took his last breath.

So while they kissed on those well-worn porch steps he realized what it signified and he resigned himself to it. He was determined to make up for what poor hand life had dealt her these past years.

He only hoped she would feel that his sorry, miserable soul would be enough.

* * *

AN: For the purposes of story telling, I switched from first person voice for the prologue, to third person for the remainder of the story.


	3. Chapter 3: Duty

Chapter 2: Duty

They sat at her kitchen table over a small pot of tea and she shared with him how she passed the intervening years since they last met. He listened closely, filling in any unspoken parts. He knew well enough she wouldn't elaborate on any privation she had encountered. When she was done, he took her hand.

"Miss Isabella, I'm so sorry I did not seek you out sooner than I did. When I thought of you over these past years, I envisioned you being happily surrounded by your family; your husband, and, surely by now, a few children clinging to your skirts. In my wildest imaginings, I'd never could have believed you were alone. Don't you have family here 'bouts?"

"I do but they are caught up in their own affairs, as they should be. They have helped me as they could-my cousin Jacob, especially, but he has his own family and a business to see to. It's not been easy for anyone these days."

He nodded, understanding how people had a tendency to see to their own first before looking to the welfare of others. After all, wasn't that the reason of his tardiness?

"What about you, Mr. Cullen? What happened after you left me?"

He swallowed. It had been nine years since he last saw her-two years of brutal warfare, then seven years trying to recover from it. He found it easiest just to put it out of his mind and concentrate on other things but occasionally a thought, a sound, or a phrase would bring it back and he'd descend once again into hellish nightmares. That was a part of his life he tried his best not to revisit, but she was owed some sort of explanation, especially since she had done so much for him and he had only ever given so little.

"I left here in the early hours that morning, thinking only of your safety. I have to admit, Miss Isabella, it was hard leaving you so abruptly after all your kindnesses to me but I knew the longer I left it, the more difficult it would be for me to rejoin the army and the greater the chance of being discovered here."

"But your poor leg. Surely you couldn't have walked the whole way back to Virginia."

He smiled and shook his head as leaned back in his chair straightening out the limb in question. "I was fortunate to find a horse in the woods not far from here. Evidently, he had run off during the battle. He was a little gun shy, but I was able to coax him into carrying me." Edward left out the part where he had found the horse standing over a dead Union cavalryman, its former rider.

"So, the horse and I made our way south by riding cross-country and it wasn't a day later that we were intercepted by Confederate scouts guarding the rear of the retreat. Soon, I was standing in front of my commanding officer recounting my adventures."

"Was he unhappy with you? Surely he understood you couldn't help being separated from your company."

Edward shrugged. "He understood well enough what had happened to me and was glad that I had managed to catch back up. I spent the next two years riding the war on that old Yankee roan. He proved to be a good and faithful steed." He didn't tell her how, after Appomattox, the Roan was reappropriated by Union troops who noticed the _US _ branded into its flank. Edward had to walk all the way back to his family. Fortunately, his home was a little over a hundred miles away. Some of his fellow Confederates had many hundreds of miles to walk. He was home in time to help with the late planting that year.

"So you made it through the rest of the war safely?"

He paused a bit before saying, "I did, thanks be." He wasn't going to mention the wounds that weren't visible.

"Thanks be to God, indeed. I prayed for you every night, Mr. Cullen."

"Then surely, it was your prayers that kept me out of harm's way. I can't imagine the Almighty would ever ignore your pleas." There was a glint in his eye, had he known it, which bespoke his care for the lady.

She sighed and said, "Alas, my prayers didn't keep my father safe. He had died of dysentery before you and I had even met."

"My sincere condolences, ma'am." How many times had he said that to others over the last few years? He thought about lost comrades and the burdens that now saddled his father. There were reparations, forced political representation, and punitive taxes, even to the point of losing the land one loved, the land one had originally fought for. The spoils of war it was called, and he found it was a bitter harvest.

"Where you very surprised to receive my letter?"

"Indeed, I was. I had long thought you'd forgotten me and I hoped you were happy and content."

"Forgotten you! I could never forget you, though I had only known you a short time." He could tell she was every bit as sincere as he remembered.

"But you've been happy and content?" he asked.

"Content enough. Happy enough; though, now I'm as giddy as a lark that you're here. I can hardly believe it! You will stay for a spell, won't you?"

"Perhaps you could use my help with the farm?

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, you're my guest. I couldn't ask a thing of you."

He reached over and again took her hand. "It would be my pleasure. It would be a small return for your aid to me when I was wounded."

"I don't want you to feel beholding to that. You helped me those four days as much as I ever did you."

"Surely, you saved my life, Miss Isabella."

"And you kept me sane. Without you, I'd have broken down for sure."

"But you could use a hand around here, and I'm fairly handy." He smiled. "I had been working on my father's farm after I returned home. I've gotten fairly used to stubborn plows and skittish cattle. I've learned to swing a hammer as well as a scythe. I do believe I would be useful to you."

Isabella impetuously lifted his hands to her lips then held them to her cheek. "This is a dream come to life. You're welcome to stay as long as you wish, sir, as long as your family won't miss you back in Virginia, that is."

For some reason there was a peculiar sensation in the middle of his chest and he swallowed. Her cheek was so soft. "My family…they're not so far away that I can't write to them. They knew from the day I came back from the war that I most likely wouldn't be staying."

"Why wouldn't you be staying? You loved your home. I well remember the stories you told me about it."

"That's all they are, now, Miss Isabella, nothing but stories."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes were big as saucers.

"My father had to sell _Bel Aire_ to satisfy the tax liens on his property. They now live in Richmond. He is still practicing medicine and 'tis an easier trade in a city than in the countryside."

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, I grieve for you! That must have been a blow."

"There are worse." He shrugged having long ago accepted his unhappy fate.

"What have you been doing since the sale?"

"I hadn't quite figured that out. It took place this past spring and I've spent the past months settling that and helping my mother and father to move into their new home."

"And your sisters? Are they with your parents, too?"

"No. They are married and have their own households. They married soon after the war."

"That's happy news."

He nodded. "They are content but very busy. They don't live too far away from Richmond, so I have no worry about leaving my parents. It was time I found my place in the world."

"Do you think your place could be in Pennsylvania?" She immediately bit her lip as though she regretted saying too much.

"I don't know about Pennsylvania, but I do know about a sweet lady that lives there." He lifted her hand to his lips just as she had done his.

"It wouldn't be seemly for you to work here without some sort of recompense, and I'm afraid that I can't afford…" she found it difficult to finish the sentence. Her cheeks blazed in embarrassment. Truly, sometimes she barely had enough for herself but he didn't need to know that.

Edward shifted off his chair and knelt on the floor in front of her, still holding her hands in his.

"Miss Isabella, I mean to do right by you. I will stay and work this farm and stand by you as I should. I know I don't have much more to offer you than my labor and my name but all that I have, I give to you."

"I can't think of what you might mean." He could see the pulse hammering away at her throat and could only hope that she wouldn't be repulsed by his offer.

"I mean, Miss Swan, would you marry me?"

She gasped and all color left her face, "M-m-arry you? Are you sure that's what you want?"

He nodded his head and studied her face as though her eyes and mouth would tell him the state of her heart.

"Have I died and gone to heaven?" she asked, still in a daze.

"I sincerely hope you haven't for there's got to be better awaiting you in the great beyond than just my meager self," he said and pulled her closer to him. "This isn't a dream. I am asking for your hand. Will you say yes?"

"Y-y-yes!" She threw her arms about his neck and they spent a sweet few minutes celebrating with lips and arms and sighs.

When they once again became aware of their surroundings, Isabella was seated upon Edward's lap as he sat in the chair she'd vacated.

"When shall we marry?" she asked.

"As soon as may be, I'm thinking. We don't need to have the neighborhood concerned about your good name."

Thinking about how the people of Gettysburg would react if she stayed here alone with Edward caused a cold shiver to rise up her spine. "It wouldn't be fitting, I suppose."

"Then let us be fitting, ma'am. Is there anyone to look after your farm for a day or so?"

"I have no livestock, so other than locking the door, I doubt there'd be anything to look after for just a day or so."

"Then I propose that we travel to York, get a license there, and marry. We could be back in a day."

She studied him carefully. "Mr. Cullen, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Miss Swan, it has been my one thought since I read in your letter that you were a maid."

"Truly?" Her eyes sparkled in excitement.

"Truly," he echoed.

* * *

A few hours later, Edward and Isabella were both riding the hired horse into town. Together, they had prepared the farm for their departure and Bella was able to pack some necessities in a small carpet-bag. She changed out of her work clothes into her best dress—one she had made over from a dress her aunt had given her a few years back. She hoped Edward wouldn't be too displeased with her shabby appearance, but new clothes hadn't been a priority in recent years.

When Edward lifted Bella onto the blanket he had put behind the saddle, she found she was unsure of where to put her hands. Common sense dictated she simply hold on to Edward but she was too shy to try it, even though he was soon to be her husband. She gripped the back of his saddle but when he mounted in front of her he said, "Just put your arms 'round me. I don't want to lose you."

So, she carefully put her arms about Edward's waist. He clucked to the horse and they started off at a trot, which jostled Bella a little more than she had expected. She squeaked and held on tighter. Edward grinned and was surprised at the warm feeling that welled up in his chest. He threaded the reins through his right hand fingers and then, with a bemused expression, he clasped his left hand over both of hers as they rested against him. They rode like that most of the way into Gettysburg.


	4. Chapter 4 Sensation

Chapter 3: Sensation

The livery where Edward had hired the horse was on the outskirts of town, so they were able to return their mount without too many people seeing them. Isabella knew that riding through town with a strange man would create a sensation, one she hoped to avoid.

They walked from the stable to the train depot and Edward bought two round-trip tickets to the nearby city of York. The train would leave within the hour, arriving at its destination just an hour after that. Edward hoped to take care of their business immediately upon arriving in the town and then catch the first train back to Gettysburg in the morning. They could stay overnight in lodgings.

He didn't notice how the depot agent stared at them, but he did notice that Isabella's normally buoyant behavior was much more subdued.

"Are you feeling rightly, Miss Isabella?" he asked.

"Well enough, thank you."

He looked around to make sure no one was in hearing distance and asked, "Are you feeling unsettled about our marriage? Have you changed your mind?"

"Oh, no. It's just the way people are looking at us-I never cared for the attention."

Edward nodded, then took her hand and threaded it through the crook of his arm. Instructing the clerk to hold their bags, he led Bella out to a small restaurant across the way.

"We'll be on our way soon and out of scrutiny of any passersby. I think we should eat before our journey. There's nothing to be had on the trains and I'm feeling right peckish."

"I should have offered you something to eat while we were on the farm." Isabella grimaced as they entered the small establishment.

"I wasn't hungry then, my dear, and was hankering to be on the road."

Edward winked at her as they stood inside the restaurant. She blushed in response. Was Edward truly that eager to be wed to her? He said he wished to and his kisses were sweet. Yet, it was all so sudden. All that she knew was she had craved Edward's company for years and, just as in a dream come true, she wouldn't turn down this opportunity of spending her life with him, not for anything.

The waiter came over then and asked what they'd care to have.

"We have to catch a train in a few minutes, so what can be served to us quickly?" Edward asked.

"We can make a box for you to take aboard, if you wish. Today, I think Cook has ham sandwiches, berry tarts, and chilled sarsaparilla to drink."

"That sounds ideal to me, does it to you, Miss Isabella?" Edward asked.

Bella nodded, a little overcome by the treat. She'd never had food from a restaurant before. It seemed such a waste of money when you had a whole farm full of food at home. Whenever she'd go into town, it had always been her habit to pack food, as it had been her grandmother's before her. It was a wonder she had forgotten to do such today.

"It will only take a moment to prepare. Why don't you have a seat while you wait?" The waiter indicated a small table at the side of the room.

Bella perched nervously on the edge of her chair. She was afraid of running into someone she knew in town. What would she say to them if they asked what she was about? Marrying Edward made perfect sense to her but it would be impossible to explain to anyone else. No one knew that she had taken Edward and nursed his wound in during that battle long ago. They wouldn't have understood why she offered succor to the enemy, so she never revealed what she had done.

"Ma'am, are you certain that you are well?" Edward's concern touched her heart.

"Oh, yes, I am well, I just wondered what we'd tell folk when it is discovered we're married."

He noticed the pinched look to her forehead and felt the sudden urge to smooth it out. "Don't worry, Miss Isabella. We shall simply say we've been in correspondence for some time and decided to marry from that."

"Oh." She nodded. She couldn't think of anything better to say. It would have to do for, after all, in a round-about way, it was the truth.

Suddenly, a figure passed the window and entered the restaurant. Isabella gasped as she realized who had come through the door.

"Bella? What are you doing here?" A tall, young man with black hair, approached their table in a rush.

"I…uh…well, Jacob, let me introduce you to Mr. Edward Cullen. Mr. Cullen, this is my cousin, Jacob Black."

Edward had arisen when Jacob approached Isabella. He stood calmly beside her, with one arm behind his back and a pleasant expression on his face. He took the measure of the man in front of him and remembered him as being the boy who came to Bella's cottage the day after the battle to see to her well-being.

Edward only nodded at the man, since Jacob hadn't offered his hand to shake. There were a variety of emotions crossing the young man's face as he peered at Edward then turned to Bella. "What are you doing with this man, Bella? I thought Mr. Banner at the depot must be feverish! He said that you were buying tickets to York with this person?"

"Jacob Black, where are you manners? 'Tis unlike you to be so rude. Mr. Cullen is a dear friend of mine and I thank you to treat him with respect."

"If he's a dear friend, then why don't I know him? He's not from these parts, that's for certain, and you've never left Gettysburg to meet a stranger! You're not telling…"

At this point Edward interrupted Jake's tirade. No one would ever speak to his bride so unmannerly. "Excuse me, sir, but surely you are not besmirching your cousin's name and in such a public place? I shall not tolerate such ungallant behavior towards her, even though you are kin."

Jacob took a step back, eyes wide, "Why you're a Confederate! I can tell by your speech! Bella, you are cavorting with a Rebel!"

Edward sighed, realizing he just fanned the man's worry to greater heights. "No sir, according to President Grant himself, I am an American just as you are, once the fighting was over. I ask you to have more consideration for your cousin than you have shown here-to-fore. I suggest we take this discussion to a more private venue."

Jacob finally looked around at the other people in the small room. There was only the waiter who now had their boxed meal in hand, and an elderly couple sitting over by the window. They were all gaped mouthed and avidly listening to what was plainly the most interesting thing they had heard in their lives.

"I'll take that, thank you," Edward held his hand out to the waiter who remembered himself at last and handed the boxed lunch over with an ingratiating smile. Edward gave him some coins, then turned to offer Bella his arm. Not waiting for Jacob, they walked outside and crossed the street into the depot. After pausing a minute, Jacob was right behind them. Fortunately, the depot was empty except for an old yellow cat who was sunning himself in the doorway.

"What are you doing? Bella you can't just go off with this man." Reminded of his manners, Jake used a quieter tone than he had before.

"Jacob, it truly isn't your place to tell me what I may do and what I may not." Bella was getting a tad heated at her cousin's bull-headed perseverance.

"But Bella, just think of what people will say. It's all ready gone half way around the town by now."

"The town shan't say a thing, Mr. Black, as it is perfectly respectable for a wife to journey with her husband," Edward replied.

"Wife!" Jake was gobbling air now.

"Shhh, Jacob. Yes, Mr. Cullen and I are getting married as soon as we arrive in York. We'll be back directly and we can speak about it all then. For now, we have a train to catch." Bella spoke firmly. She wanted no more of Jake's antics here.

"But…but…" Jake was floundering, not knowing how to take anything that was just said.

"All Aboard!" the Conductor called out.

"Jake, truly I am very well and very happy. I've known Mr. Cullen for a long time and I've never met a more honorable man. Don't fret. Goodbye, and I shall see you soon." Bella took Edward's arm and they walked across the platform towards the train.

"Bella, what will my father say?"

"_Well done_?" It was a flippant answer, she knew, and she shook her head. She understood exactly how William Black would react to her marriage and wishing them well would be the exact opposite, she was sure, but at this moment, she cared not.

Edward ushered Bella aboard the train and escorted her to their seats. Sitting at a few rows from them were other passengers, but they must have been passing through Gettysburg because Bella didn't recognize any of them, thank goodness. She wasn't looking forward to explaining herself to someone again, well-meaning or not. She truly wasn't looking forward to facing her uncle when she returned. The man was used to getting his way and would go to any end to see he got it.

A few minutes later, the train pulled out of the station and they were on their way. Edward opened the boxed luncheon and handed Bella one of the napkins that was inside. They companionably shared their meal but without much chatter. In fact, Bella was uncharacteristically quiet.

"You seem mighty thoughtful. Care to share with me?" Edward asked.

"I hate to burden you with my woes."

He smiled and said, "Since we are entering the state of matrimony as soon as we can manage, I would venture that your woes will soon be my woes as well. But I believe you'll find that burdens shared make the carrying of them easier. Tell me what's troubling you?"

"My uncle won't be happy about our marriage, Mr. Cullen."

"I understand that he may be concerned about you marrying someone who's a stranger to him but I'm sure once he sees how well we go on together, he'll be reassured."

"No, it's not that. My uncle is a very strong-willed man. After my father died, he wanted to buy the farm from me, but I refused to sell it to him or anyone else. I remembered how you had asked me if I loved the land and I realized that I did. It made me as stubborn as my uncle, I'm afraid."

"And yet, you see that I'm no longer on the land I told you about with such affection. I've learned that honor is much more important than land."

"But what would honor serve me if I had nowhere to live?"

"Wouldn't your uncle have taken you in?"

"He never offered, but I doubt I'd have been comfortable living with him. He's a rather rough soul and difficult, as is Aunt Hester, his wife."

Edward shook his head. He just couldn't understand how Bella's family could have left her to fend for herself for so long. "But what does our marriage have to do with you not selling your land to him?"

"He's been trying to force a sale on me these last two years."

"How so?"

"After my father died, I was able to lease out the fields to my closest neighbor. It was a beneficial arrangement for the both of us. The spring before last, when it was time for him to start plowing, he never arrived. I went to inquire why he was so tardy and he told me that he wouldn't be farming my land that year. There was no other explanation.

"I went to every farmer in the area and they all declined my offer, even when I lowered my rate. I have good land, excellent soil and yet I couldn't find anyone to farm it. Honestly, Mr. Cullen, leasing the fields was where the majority of my income came from and when I couldn't find someone to rent them, it was worrisome."

"Why wouldn't someone else take the lease?"

"Millie, the wife of my nearest neighbor and the one who usually leased my land, took me aside one day and told me that she was very put out with her husband. It seems that my Uncle had coerced him into not renting my fields. It had something to do with monies owed. I can't get to the bottom of it and I can't get anyone to budge. Perhaps now that you're here we won't need them and can farm our own fields."

"That was my thought, as well, but you have no horses or oxen to pull a plow, do you?"

"Not any longer. The cattle were taken during the war and I never could afford to replace them."

Edward sighed. Many people had lost their livelihoods due to the war. He would see what he could do to get Bella's farm to be a profitable business once again.

"I promise you, we shall see to your farm together."

She smiled and said, "I feel more hopeful today than I've felt in a good long time, Mr. Cullen. I keep pinching myself to make sure I'm not dreaming."

Edward, took her hand in his and said, "Don't pinch yourself too hard, I'd hate for you to bruise your lovely skin. But there is something I would ask of you."

"What is it?" Bella would do all in her own power to please her fiancé.

"Please call me Edward when we are not in company. _Mr. Cullen_ sounds so distant and unfriendly."

Bella could feel her cheeks blooming. Calling him by his first name was such an intimate gesture. That, more than anything, pointed out the direction they were heading.

"Then, will you call me Isabella, or even Bella, as my family and friends have always done?"

"It would be my honor and delight, Isabella."

It wasn't many minutes later the Conductor came through the carriage announcing the train would soon be pulling into the York sation. Bella's heart started to pound as she realized what lay ahead—marriage, to the man of her every dream.

But a little nagging voice in the back of her head wondered if a dream could transform easily into reality?

That remained to be seen.


	5. Chapter 5 Commitment

Chapter 4: Commitment

Edward had expected there to be some sort of rigmarole when they got to York, but they found that the court house was an easy walk from the depot and the clerk behind the licensing desk was helpful. It was going on four in the afternoon when they applied for their marriage license.

Just that simple act told Bella things she didn't know about her husband-to-be. For instance, he was two years older than she, in his thirty-first year. They were rather old to be marrying, she knew others would think. She shrugged that off, though. For her part, she'd never felt so elated.

Truthfully, every time Edward took her hand, or smiled at her, or showed her gentlemanly courtesy, her heart flittered in her chest like a hummingbird's wing. She only hoped he felt the same for her, but she could hardly see how. She felt like a peahen next to her peacock when she stood next to him. She hoped that she would learn to make him as happy as he already made her.

It seemed that fate was conspiring in their favor, for no sooner had the ink dried on their marriage license than the judge was free to perform the service. The clerk served as witness and within five minutes of shaking hands with the judge, they were married. The whole process didn't even take a half an hour, and that for an act that was meant to last an entire lifetime!

Bella was surprised that when the judge asked for the ring, Edward actually produced one he had been wearing on the little finger of his left hand. As he slipped it on her ring finger, she could tell it was a little big but would stay on if she made a fist.

After saying their thanks and goodbyes, Edward led his bride out of the court house's dark interior into the bright June sunshine. They paused on the top step of the marble entryway, blinking in the bright light when Edward turned to Bella and said, "Happy wedding day, Mrs. Cullen."

"I wasn't expecting a ring, Edward."

"It's a little big for your hand, I noticed, but we can ask a goldsmith to adjust it."

Bella studied it closely now she could see it better. It was gold with a flat bezel that had a decorated shield engraved upon it.

"It's the Cullen family crest. Every family member has one."

"I can't take your ring, Edward."

"You're a Cullen now. I want you to have it. My father gave my mother his when they married, as well. It's a family tradition."

"I am so overwhelmed." Her voice was rather breathless.

"You aren't having regrets, are you?"

"No! Never! I'm just so happy." Her smile was outshining the sun.

"Well, Mrs. Cullen, I do believe we have some celebrating to do. But before we do that, we need to find lodgings. Do you know of a reputable place here abouts?"

"To stay in?"

"Yes."

"To be honest, I've never stayed here before. I don't know." She looked about the street to see if lodgings would suddenly appear.

"I want to have a suitable place for you to stay. Let us go across to that news seller and inquire."

The jolly gentleman who stood behind his stand called to them as they approached, "Good day to you, Mister and Missus! How can I be of service to you today?"

Bella was surprised the man knew of their newly wedded state and in her shock she said, "How did you know we were just married?"

The man laughed and said, "I saw you go into the courthouse and then come out with stars in your eyes. 'Twas plain to see."

She put her hand to her cheek, a little discomforted that her feelings were so obvious to others but Edward spoke up and said, "You're quite an observant fellow. You can probably also tell that we are strangers to York and must stay the night here. Could you suggest lodgings nearby that would be suitable for a lady?"

"Well, sir, there's the _Golden Plough_ but that's an old, creaky place and a tavern to boot. I don't rightly know…wait! I have it! The Bonhams are a fine family and they take in overnight visitors. Their house is just a few blocks eastward. Come, I'll show you." With that, the man shut up his shop and led them down the street, chattering the whole way.

"York doesn't have a fine hotel like some places but, I promise, that's coming! We are a growing concern, we are, and aim to be the best city in Pennsylvania, if not Maryland, too!"

Edward smiled at the man's enthusiasm and shot a concerned eye over at his wife. She was mighty quiet. Perhaps she was shy around company. He didn't know her well enough to say.

Bella wasn't shy as much as she was dazed. So much had happened in one day and it wasn't nearly over! She clutched Edward's arm tightly, hanging on for dear life. He put his hand over hers and, suddenly, she calmed. It was as though he anchored her to the ground.

When they arrived at the Bonham's, Chester, the friendly newspaper seller, knocked on the door and called, "Yoo hoo, Miz Bonham? I've got some guests for you. Newlyweds they are!"

Bella blushed scarlet wishing the man would cease to prattle about their business. Why, she'd hardly gotten used to the idea herself!

A very pleasant woman appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "I see, Chester. Good afternoon to you and congratulations. I'm Mrs. Horace Bonham. Welcome to our home." She stood aside to let Edward and Bella pass.

Edward thanked Chester and tried to give him a coin but Chester refused. "No, sir. I shan't have your money. I wish you and your Missus all the best." With a small salute, the man turned and trotted back down the street in the direction they had come.

"So, I take it you wish to let a room?" Mrs. Bonham asked.

Edward took off his hat and bowed slightly at the waist. "Yes, ma'am, just for the evening. We will be leaving tomorrow morning to catch a train."

"That's no trouble, sir. Let me have you sign the register."

She walked over to a table nearby the front door, picked up a book, and turned it so Edward could sign in. Bella stood and watched him write _Mr. and Mrs. Edward A. Cullen. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania_ on the allotted lines. She caught her breath. It still seemed like a fairy tale to her.

When he was done, Mrs. Bonham said, "Your room is on the ground floor on its own."

As she led Bella and Edward through the house she said, "Supper's a light meal and served promptly at six in the evening. Breakfast is at seven in the morning. Room and board is two dollars for the both of you. I know that's rather much, but I promise the food is good, the room is very well fitted, and there's a bathroom nearby that is reserved for our guests."

She pointed to a doorway as she passed and Bella peeped in and saw all sorts of mysterious fixtures in the smallish room. It was a wonder.

"Here's your room. I'll be back in a minute to put linens on the bed. I don't do that until we have guests to keep the bedding fresh. Make yourself at ease and I'll be back directly."

Edward and Bella stood in the center of the room looking everywhere but at each other. Against the far wall was the biggest bed Bella had ever seen. Its headboard climbed almost to the ceiling and the ornate wood carvings that embellished it looked like something out of a cathedral. There was a matching dresser with a marble top and wash stand to match, but the bed took all her attention.

"I think I'll go down the hall a bit. Why don't you unpack while we await our hostess?"

Edward always had a useful idea, so Bella tore her mind from the bed and did as he suggested. There wasn't much to put away. Her valise held only some clean drawers and stockings, a fresh blouse, tooth powder, her brush set, and, finally a plain as dust night gown. She folded her clothes away in the top drawer of the dresser and laid her brush set on top of it.

Just as she finished, Edward returned. "That bathing room is a marvel. I've never seen the like."

"Truly?"

"It took me a moment to understand its workings, but it's fairly ingenious. Come, let me show you."

He led her down to the room Mrs. Bonham had pointed out earlier. It was a long, narrow space that had a deep tub on one side, and a basin on the other. In the corner there was a stool that sat under a wooden box on the wall above it, with an attached chain hanging down.

"Is that the privy?" Bella asked.

"It is, I think, what is called a flush toilet. 'Tis indelicate to discuss it, but rather foolish not to. After your needs are seen to, you pull this chain and the bowl cleanses itself."

"No dumping in an outhouse?"

"No. I assume it's washed away into a cess pit somewhere. It's quite clever."

"That's rather handy." Just seeing the apparatus had a curious effect on her. She suddenly remembered how long it had been since she was last able to relieve herself and suddenly the matter was becoming quite urgent. She shifted from side to side, feeling too awkward to mention it to Edward.

"The tub seems to run hot and cold water. There must be a furnace somewhere…" Edward intently studied the contraption, oblivious to the growing restlessness of his new wife.

"And it's the same for this basin. Amazing ingenuity!" He stooped and looked under the sink to study how it was arranged.

"Er, uhm…." How did one explain to one's new groom that one's bladder was about to burst? "Edward…"

Squatting down on the floor, one hand on the basin, Edward looked up at his wife. She darted an eye towards the toilet and he finally realized the reason for the pinched look on her face. He rose to his feet and said, "I believe I have some unpacking to do." Nodding at her, a small smile on his lips, he turned and left, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Bella chuckled as she turned to the commode. Married life was probably going to be filled with such familiarities and she'd better get used to it. She had to admit, however, the conveniences in this room were a wonder.

When she got back to their bed chamber, she realized Mrs. Bonham had been there and made the bed, leaving a stack of towels on the wash stand, as well.

Smiling, Edward rose from the chair he had been sitting in when she entered the room. "Mrs. Bonham says that dinner will be served in a few minutes. Might you care for a stroll in their garden while we await?"

Nodding her agreement, he offered his arm and led her through the glass garden doors that opened into the yard from their room. It had beautifully laid out flower beds, shady trees, and comfortable benches scattered here and there for their enjoyment.

"I don't believe I've ever seen as elegant a place as this," Bella said.

"It's quite surprising to find this diamond in what could be considered a rough town, but perhaps it was meant to be. It is suitable for my bride." He put his hand over hers as it rested on his arm and smiled tenderly at her.

"Edward, I'm neither elegant nor used to things that are. I'm a plain soul, I'm afraid."

"You have a _pure_ soul, Bella. Goodness shines out of you like the morning sun. I hope you never regret tying your fate to mine."

The color was high in her cheeks. She was sure he had the wrong measure of her. "I was thinking earlier that I hoped that _I_ could learn to make _you_ as happy as you make me."

"I'm happy now."

"That pleases me."

"You please me."

He reached out and plucked an early rose from a bush Mrs. Bonham had growing on a trellis and handed it to her. Delighted, she sniffed it then held it to his nose so he could appreciate the fragrance, too. Heady with the scent of the rose and her nearness, he took her hand in his and turned it so he could kiss it as he gazed into her eyes.

He was surprised at how much he was enjoying married life.

* * *

AN: There is indeed an old tavern in York, PA called the Golden Plough. It is now a museum. Also, there's a historical house that was owned by the Bonham family and is also open for visitors. I took liberties with some of the facts here. The Bonhams moved into their new house in York a few years after I've set this story, and I don't know whether they ever let out rooms or had a fancy bathroom in it. For the purposes of this story, I stretched it a bit. I wanted to give E & B at least one night of bliss before they have to face the realities of their lives, so bear with me.

Thanks to Veycha for proof reading this for me. She's a friend to grammar in general, commas in specificity. Still, any mistakes you find are my fault entirely. I can't seem to stop without futzing with it.


	6. Chapter 6 Consummation

Chapter 5: Consummation

Supper was delicious, just as Mrs. Bonham had promised. Edward and Bella sat at the table with their lively family and enjoyed the company very much. Mr. Bonham, though trained as a lawyer, seemed to be a man of all knowledge. He was pleased to discuss with Edward the marvels of his house and promised to send him off the next morning with a copy of the plans for the bathing room fixtures.

The Bonhams had two young girls who, contrary to most child-rearing practices of the day, were encouraged to partake in their share of the conversation. They were very curious about Bella and Edward's nuptials and, though they thought their elopement was quite romantic, they were disappointed that Bella didn't have a fancy wedding gown to wear or bridal bouquet to throw.

When supper was over, Bella asked Mrs. Bonham if she could help with the dishes.

"Ah, pish posh, Mrs. Cullen! You may not help for two very good reasons. First, you're a paying guest and guests don't lift a finger 'round here. Secondly, it's your honeymoon and you must not be parted from your groom. Now, go on with you." Bella wasn't sure, but she thought the lady winked at her.

So, Bella soon found herself back in their sumptuous room, once again staring at that massive bed. Edward had gone with Mr. Bonham to his study for a little after-dinner sherry, but he didn't stay long. Soon, he was in the room, too, to find his wife having trouble making eye-contact with him. He chuckled inwardly. He knew what was on her mind—his as well, to be honest.

Bella knew about marital relations. Her grandmother did right by her and made sure to explain the "ins and outs" of wife-ing soon after she first bled. Besides, Bella had grown up on a farm and had witnessed many an animal in rut, but she never had near any experience with it herself, of course. Now that it was upon her, she didn't have a shred of an idea of how to begin. Should she get undressed and get into bed? Should she put on her plain old nightgown or go without? Should she wait for Edward to begin? She had no earthly idea. So, she stood there in the middle of the room, studying the intricate pattern of the carpet as though the ten commandments of intercourse were woven into their threads and would reveal to her how to seduce her husband.

For his part, Edward didn't need to be seduced. He was whole-heartedly on board with the idea and was plotting a campaign to woo his bride. That fancy bathing room gave him an idea.

He walked over to Bella and took her hands in his. "Isabella, 'tis been a long day, full of excitement and some worry."

Looking up at him, she squeezed his hands and said, "Yes, but more than that it has been a day of unremitting joy. I can hardly believe that you returned to me after so many years apart. And now we are already committed to each other for the rest of our lives! Happiness has taken over every particle of my being. I can hardly find the words to express it."

Edward pulled her into his arms and said, "I've always found that when words will no longer do, actions must take their place." He leaned down and kissed her gently, first on her forehead, then on both cheeks, and, finally, reverently on her lips.

When he lifted his head, he found her eyes closed, her lips parted in a soft smile, and imbued with a radiance that would put an angel to shame. His breath came out in a stutter as he beheld this beauty who was now his wife, and he felt that stone in his chest, the one he'd carried since the war, soften and crack a bit, as though something warm inside was trying to get out.

Swallowing, he said, "I've a hankering to use that big ol' bath tub tonight. It's big enough for two." He added the last part a little hesitantly, as though he was unsure of her reaction.

Bella's eyes sprung open as his meaning became clear. "You want us to bathe together?" she whispered, shocked.

"We are wed and I think it will serve us well. It's plenty big. The hot water won't run out if we double up. And…I'm sure we'd find the experience sweet."

Bella swallowed. His soft accent didn't hide the fact they'd have to strip bare to bathe together, but she supposed they would have ended up that way sooner or later this evening. After all, as Edward said, they were wed. It was the natural course of life.

She couldn't speak, so she simply nodded in agreement.

"Mrs. Bonham left us robes to use. She said that, though we would be the only ones on this floor in the night, we might prefer wearing them if we had to go down the hall. Why don't you put yours on in here? I'll start filling the bath. Come to me when you're ready, but don't be too long. The water won't stay hot forever."

She watched him as he took off all his clothes except his trousers and shirt. She marveled at his equanimity because her own nerves seemed to be jumping out of her skin. Grabbing his robe and the towels, he left the room, smiling reassuringly at her as he shut the door.

_Well, Bella, it seems your groom awaits._

She methodically stripped out of her clothes until, finally, she stood naked in the middle of the room. She was unsure how appealing she'd be to Edward once he saw her in the flesh. Looking into the mirror that hung on the door of the armoire, she saw a slight woman, with firm flesh, small, bosoms, a narrow waist, and flaring hips. She thought she was a little on the thin side but slenderness ran in her family. There was nothing she could do about her appearance now, anyway. No use to pine over it.

She slipped the robe on and then went to the dresser to pull the pins out of her hair and brush the tangles out. She got a small thrill when she noticed Edward's comb sitting next to her brush. They _were_ married. Happy, surprising day.

After brushing her hair, she plaited it and twisted it onto the top of her head to keep it out of the way of during their bath. A pin would hold it in place. She hadn't tried to dally in her disrobing, but she hadn't hurried either. Could a body be both eager and hesitant at the same time?

It took all her courage to open the door to the bathroom, but when she did her mouth gaped in surprise. The hot water from the bath had steamed up the room, but she could see well enough by the candle Edward had lit. He was already sitting in the tub, which was a pleasant sight in itself, but what amazed her was the foam that seemed to fill the thing.

"What is this?" she asked in wonder.

Edward picked up a bottle that was on the tub ledge next to the wall and read, "_'Mousse de bain à la rose'_ or roughly translated _'Rose Bath Suds.'_ It guarantees soft skin and a glowing complexion." He put the bottle down, leaned back in the tub and said, "I don't know about its claims, but I can report that its aroma is mighty relaxing."

She also noticed it was mighty concealing, as well. All she could see of her husband was from his shoulders up, his arms as they rested around the edge of the tub, and his knees sticking up out of the sud-bank. That was a relief. She was half certain she'd fall out if she saw too much of him at once. He was a powerfully beautiful man.

Bella was fascinated by the suds and tentatively touched some bubbles as they clung to the side of the tub. She giggled when she felt them pop. "Such a marvel."

"Come in and feel them first hand."

"How hot is the water?"

"It's not too hot, but hot enough to feel a mercy to one's bones. Come in, my darling. I'll look away if you are bashful."

"Thank you."

Edward turned his head and shut his eyes while Bella quickly slipped out of her robe and let it fall to the floor. Then, she carefully climbed into the tub trying her best not to jostle Edward as she did, but that was to no avail. The tub was long and roomy but not so much that they could avoid touching. As soon as she sat down, he put his arms around her body and drew her towards his own.

"Make yourself easy, Isabella. Lean against me."

She eased back as he added, "Put your head on my shoulder…shut your eyes…and breathe deeply. I'm sure you shall find it as close to heaven as a body can come."

She hesitatingly did as he asked and was relieved to discover he had put a cloth over his gentleman's business so that she wouldn't be so abruptly introduced to what would surely be an astonishing acquaintance. That was something her maidenly modesty was willing to postpone a little longer.

She did her best to do as he suggested and after a moment, she had to agree. Resting against his strong body in the hot water, inhaling the fragrance of the softly scented bubbles, seeing the glow of the candle light through the lids of her eyes was as close to paradise as she could ever imagine.

"This is delightful," she murmured.

"I thought it would be part of a perfect ending to a perfect day. I was enjoying it before you arrived, but now that you are here, it is a thousand-fold better."

Feeling her slippery body against his was testing almost every resolve to be easy with her this night. He knew that eventually, they'd be abed and share in carnal delights, but this was a fine prelude to that enjoyment. He wanted her to be comfortable with the idea first.

As she rested her head against his shoulder, he put his lips against her temple and hummed. His fingers were lightly tracing patterns along her sides and if he looked down, he could see glimpses of dark pink buds, not quite covered by the bubbles. He shut his eyes and he held her close. Yes, it was heaven for him as well.

They lay together for a little while in the fragrant water, getting used to being skin on skin, getting used to being at ease, getting used to being good for each other, when Bella turned her head to kiss Edward's neck. He groaned as an amatory fusillade shot through his body and called his loins to arms.

Restraint gone, he tipped Bella's face up to his so that he could kiss her properly and inwardly rejoiced when she turned to meet him, parting her lips, and wrapping her arms around his neck. He shifted her so that she was atop him and slid down a little in the tub, so their lips could more eagerly meet. Soon, they were both lost to overwhelming sensation. A frenetic energy surged until it was all that existed of them, blazing trails everywhere.

Edward marveled over the softness of her skin, the sweet taste of her mouth, and how perfectly she fit against him. Their legs were entwined, her breasts were pressed against his chest, and the pounding desire he felt for her became almost too much for him to grasp. That cloth he had used to cover himself was useless now as his "gentleman's business" had grown beyond the bounds of modesty and was clamoring for gratification.

"Oh, woman, how you delight me." He held her close, daring to slip his hand down to caress her shapely backside.

Dizzy with this mad rush of feeling she whispered, "Is this was married people do?"

He lifted a hand and traced her lips, simply filled up with gladness. "I don't know, as I've never been married before, but I think whatever we do together, as long as it is pleasing to the both of us, will be as the good Lord intended. We were meant to be joyful together, Bella. Are you joyful?"

She kissed his finger and said, "Is there a word more joyful than joyful? Because that is what I am."

He bent his head to kiss her again and they were caught up in sparks once more. Amidst all the heady new sensations, Bella felt something hard prod her stomach and she suddenly realized what it was. Edward was in rut! But perhaps she was as well with this new found aching hunger that seemed to consume her down below.

She opened her eyes to look down and gasped.

The bubbles were gone! She could see Edward's chest and the length of his legs but the rest was covered by her own body. However, her throat tightened as she realized Edward could see much more of her than she had realized. She made the tiniest squeak and looked back into Edward's eyes. He was gazing at what the bubbles had hid with a fervor she'd never witnessed before.

"You are a goddess, my Isabella; my every desire come true. Let us retire now. The water is no longer warm and I'd have naught cool our passion."

"Will you look away as I arise?"

"I will if you wish, but would you deny a starving man a crust, Isabella? You are mine, just as I am yours. I want to worship your splendor. There's no shame in it, nor ever should be between us."

He was so appealing, so sincere, that she was buoyed by his words. Though she was unable to contain her blush, she slowly rose from the bath, looking down so that all she could see was herself. She heard him draw in his breath so she looked up and the sight she beheld caused her breath to stop, too.

He lay out in front of her as she stood from the water, every inch of him a wonder, his strong legs, broad shoulders, solid chest, flat stomach—and below that—she quickly darted her eyes away, gulped and reached over the side for a linen towel. When she stepped out of the tub, she heard him arise behind her and, without looking, she handed him another of the towels. He took it but he didn't use it on himself, he turned her about and started to tenderly dry the water from her skin.

"You remind me of the marble statues I saw on display in the capitol when I was a young man."

"The capitol?"

He knelt down and started to towel her right leg. "Richmond—the capitol of Virginia and for a time, the Confederacy. I was in my second year at The University and several of us traveled to see them there. The war hadn't started, yet, and we had a gay time jay-birding about the city for the first time without an overseer, but when we went to the Capitol Building where the statues were, I think we were in awe. All the frolicking was put aside as we gazed at these marvelous works, the human form in perfection."

He looked up at her, pure awe writ across his face and said, "You rival them, Isabella."

"I have always thought I was a bit too thin. It runs in my family."

"No, you're flawless. In fact, there was a statue by a Frenchman named Falconet. He named it _Pygmalion et Galat__é__e_ and you're Galatée in the flesh, I swear, and here I am, your poor Pygmalion, at your feet in amazed adoration." He lightly ran a finger down the outside of her arm and then tugged at the towel she had clutched to her chest in modest reaction to his perusal.

"You are beautiful, and I would like nothing more than to worship at your altar."

Still kneeling on the floor, he looked up at her, his face a myriad of expressions: hope, desire, adulation, and purpose. Her heart felt as though it was beating its way out of her throat and she could not say a word. She drew a long shuddering breath and simply nodded her head.

Joyously, he sprang up and swept her into his arms. Kissing her surprised lips once, he hurried out of the room, down the hallway into their bed chamber. He didn't care or notice that they were both naked, their robes forgotten in the bathing room. One could only hope that no one else noticed, either.

The covers were all ready pulled back and he softly laid her in the midst of the down mattress, her head cushioned against the pillow. The moonlight shown through the open, gauze covered windows and he knew he'd never seen a more beautiful vision. She lay there in the silvery light, looking up at him. Her hair was a silky mass about her head as it lay upon the pillow, having come undone somewhere during the evening.

He lay down next to her and raised up on his elbow to look down into her eyes. His look softened and he raised a hand to caress her face. "May I love you, Mrs. Cullen?"

"I hope you will, Mr. Cullen." She said this with all the sincerity she could muster. She knew he was speaking of the physical consummation of their marriage, but what she so earnestly meant, so deeply and hopefully desired, was that he'd love her as he promised this afternoon, at all times, in all ways, forevermore.

"Well, then, this is how it begins…" And he brushed his hand down to her breast as he bent down to again kiss her lips.

With a thrill in her heart, she thought mayhap he meant it just the way she did.

* * *

AN: Usually in boarding houses, you ate at one table with everyone else, including any family members.

Please do a Google search for Falconet's _Pygmalion et Galat__é__e_ it is an amazing piece and you'll get Edward's drift when you see it. I made up the point that it was in Richmond in 1860, though.

Edward went to The University (as those dang Wahoos insist on calling their school, as though there are no other universities in Virginia) or as every other sane person in the world calls it the University of Virginia, the one founded and designed by Thomas Jefferson. He was the one who started calling students there 1st year, 2nd year, 3rd year and 4th year, as well. Though the university remained open during the Civil War, Edward left school to join the Army, as many of his fellow students did. General George Armstrong Custer and his Yankee troops did come by Charlottesville during the war, but was convinced by the school fathers to leave it untouched as it was the offspring of good ol' Thomas, a founding father of the Union, and something Jefferson was more proud of than being the Third President of the US. His soldiers did camp out on The Lawn (shows you how snobby those Wahoos are..._The Lawn_, as if there wasn't another lawn but their's) but other than that, left the school unscathed. Classes resumed the next day.

Besides, everyone knows a real school has _a Drillfield._

Thanks to Vecha for her fine betaing skills and the magnificent ability to speak the French.


	7. Strength

Chapter 6: Strength

Edward had pondered on how he would introduce his new wife to what he'd hoped would be a mutually pleasurable experience. He thought back over his own speckled past and could draw no practical strategies, for those women had been the opposite of inexperienced, not that he'd had a care about that at the time.

War had a habit of shucking the veneer of refinement off a man, leaving only bare bones and base hungers. He drank or went thirsty. He ate or he starved. He killed or was killed. There was no in-between. When you live in a world of extremes, you tend to take what pleasure you can where you find it. Though he had only made occasional use of the doves that could be found where ever an Army was, he would never compare those purely lustful experiences to what was about to happen between Bella and himself.

Over the course of his life, he had heard various tales of marital nights and, discounting the obvious exaggerations, he had winnowed a few useful facts. The first was that the fairer sex found it uncomfortable in the beginning and the second was that easing into it generally made it less objectionable for them. He had no intention of making it more difficult than it already must be for Bella. After all, they barely knew each other.

As he lay alongside her in their bed, he marveled at her beauty. That was surely a bonus that he never expected. Women's clothes, especially the practical, modest ones Bella wore, led much to the imagination. He had certainly thought she was a pretty little thing, but what had always struck him the deepest was the inner beauty that shone like a beacon from her soul. The image of her pure profile bathed in candlelight as she so devotedly cared for him that July long years ago, carried him through many a battlefield by day. That long-remembered kiss got him through the nights. To realize that the external package was every bit as lovely was certainly more than he deserved.

He would do his best by her and he would start by showing her how a man's body adored a woman's.

* * *

She surrendered herself to him, as a wife should, though it wasn't a completely unselfish act. His kisses and caresses had kindled a fire below that she'd never felt before and it seemed to have taken over her senses. It matched the fire in heart she had long had for this man.

His words had been sweet, but now his hands and lips took up where they'd left off-the adoring, the worshiping-as he had pledged. He rolled atop her and kissed her neck and shoulders, edging down until he lay between her legs. She never realized that lips could be used in a romantic manner other than kissing. Every time he caressed her breasts, she felt as though she would swoon—and when he would use his tongue, she knew she would surely combust.

Evidently, she was having the same effect upon him. Kissing the slopes between her breasts, he whispered into her skin, "You have intoxicated me."

Panting now, she could only moan in answer.

"Lift your knees, so that we may fit easier."

He kissed her neck as she opened herself to him that way, and felt him press insistently against her.

"I've heard said that the first time, the loving may hurt a maid."

"My granny told me it would, but still I want…" Her words came out in small gasps. Bella was unsure of how to express this yearning that had engulfed her. Hurt or not, she desired this more than anything she could remember.

"Then, the quicker done, the sooner will be over."

She squeezed her eyes shut just as he shifted his hips and pushed into her. There was a slight stinging, tearing sensation and she gasped. She looked into his face to see him gazing back down at her.

"It's done." His voice was low and rough.

Then, he twined his fingers with hers and started to move, slowly at first and then more quickly, his own expression a strange mixture of pain and pleasure. He reached an arm around and hitched one of her legs up, and the feeling then-oh lordy-it was beyond her imaginings. She felt a building pressure that caused her to unconsciously roll her head into the pillow and arch her back, aching to be nearer, closer, trying to capture something that was just beyond her reach.

With a low cry, Edward lifted up and stilled, except for ragged gasps. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked down at her as she lay beneath him. His gaze was warm and soft.

"Oh my dear darling…" He moved off of her and pulled her into his arms so that she nestled into his neck. "Now we are one, forever and for always."

She sighed, contented at his seeming pleasure, and asked, "I am no longer a maid?"

He chuckled, "No ma'am. You are a missus—my missus. I would have you no other way. We'll see if we can't get that ring fitted exactly to your finger in the morning. I want everyone to know that you are Mrs. Edward Cullen, and proudly so."

"I found the ring fits my middle finger well. I moved it there to make sure I didn't lose it."

He lifted her hand to study the ring as it sat upon her finger and said, "It will do for now, but tomorrow we shall have it where it belongs."

"As you please, Edward." She was discovering that his happiness made her own.

Held securely in his arms, the events of the long day finally caught up to her and she drifted off to dreamless slumber, for even Morpheus knew no dream he could concoct could ever compare to what had transpired that day. She was a blissful woman, indeed.

* * *

Before the cock crowed the next morning, Bella slipped from Edward's arms and pulled on her night gown. Nature was calling in a most insistent way and suddenly she remembered the state they had left the bathroom the night before. She hoped more than anything Mrs. Bonham hadn't seen the mess in there. She wouldn't be able to look the woman in the eye again. Though she had quite enjoyed her bath with Edward, she wasn't quite sure it was considered decent among married folk. Probably the least said about it, the better. Just the same, there's no need to advertise what they'd been about to others.

Taking the dampened lamp from their room, she went down the hall to the bathing room and was relieved to see it as they had left it. The candle had guttered out but the bath was still full of water, now as cold a stone. She managed to figure out how to drain the tub by pulling the plug and she picked up the wet towels that had been left on the floor. Draping them over the towel rack, she was finally able do what she came to do.

She was surprised to find she had been bleeding a little but she supposed that was all part of being a new wife. The soreness that came with it could easily be assuaged with a cold compress. She folded Edward's clothes and retrieved their robes, happy she was able to tidy up before Mrs. Bonham discovered evidence of their frolics. She blushed to think of it.

Returning to their room, she stacked their clothes on a chest, then lay back down next to her groom, adjusting the compress to ease her condition.

"Where did you go?"

She thought she'd been successful in not awakening Edward but apparently, that wasn't the case.

"I went down the hall for a bit. We left the candle aburning."

"That we did. Was all in order?"

"The candle spent itself, but the rest was as we left it. I am glad we didn't set the house afire!"

He reached for her, pulled her close, and nuzzled her neck. "I think we set enough ablaze in the night."

She giggled and cuddled into his embrace.

"You are wearing a gown?"

"I didn't think it seemly to wander around the house bare as a babe. I thought a gown would be prudent."

"Ahh." He reached down and pulled the hem up, evidently intent on sparking some more flames this morning, until he came to the damp cloth she had applied.

"What's this?"

"I, uh, well…there was some soreness and I thought a compress would suit."

"Are you in pain?"

"Nothing to be concerned about. I am sure I shall be right as rain soon."

He pulled her gown down, disappointed and apologetic at the same time. Despite his intentions, he had made a hash job of loving her in the night. She was simply too alluring and he had been overcome by sensation. Oh well, there would be time enough for more, later. It was still a comfort to hold her close. He hoped he hadn't put her off the experience.

"Let us rest a few moments longer. This day will prove to be equally as long as yesterday, I'm sure. It's no use to start it before we must." He lay flat on his back and pulled her over so that she lay on top of him, much to her delight.

"I do believe I could sleep like this," he mused as he wrapped his arms about her.

"Don't I make a lumpy blanket?"

"Ma'am, I would venture to say that your lumps are what make it pleasurable." He pulled her up so that he could reach her lips and kissed her.

She was so glad she gave him pleasure and she prayed that she could keep him happy. When they returned to the reality of her life, he may not have the same opinion.

Eventually, they arose for the day, and readied themselves. After a hearty breakfast with the Bonhams, they reluctantly bid them adieu, and left for the train station. Spying a jeweler along the way, Edward made an inquiry about having Bella's ring sized and was disappointed to discover it couldn't be done while they waited.

"Do you have any bands on hand that would fit my wife?" Edward asked the goldsmith.

"Well, indeed I do, sir." He reached into his case and pulled out a tray of rings. "I think there are a few here that would do. This one is especially nice."

He held out a thick, plain, gold band, and Edward took it and slid it on Bella's ring finger. It fit perfectly.

"I'll take this."

Bella didn't wish to protest in front of the merchant, though she thought Edward was being much too generous.

"Wear this band on your ring finger and the other on your middle finger. One day, we'll get that fixed but for now, this will do nicely," Edward said.

She squeezed his fingers then whispered, "You are much too generous, Mr. Cullen."

"No, ma'am. This isn't generosity. This is a husband taking pride in his wife. Please, let me do this for you."

What could she say? With each act, he showed his dedication to their marriage.

"Then, thank you most kindly. I will be honored to wear both of your rings."

They left the jewelers just in time to meet the morning out bound train for Gettysburg. As she clambered into her seat, she gazed out of the window at the bustling little city they were leaving behind, the place where they started their married life. It had been so idyllic that it was hard to say goodbye.

If the start of their marriage was any indication of how it would go on, they would have the sweetest union there ever was. She could only hope it would also be the strongest because she had a feeling the test was coming.

* * *

AN:

Doves or also Soiled Doves-a "kinder" name for prostitutes.

It was very dangerous for Edward and Bella to have left the candle lit in the bathroom. Fires were a terrible scourge in those times before electricity and they happened way more often that we realize.

Happy New Years to all my readers. May 2014 bring you all the best.


	8. Regained

Chapter 7: Regained

Edward had learned to trust that twisting feeling in his innards when it came to trouble. He couldn't count the times he turned, or ducked, or fired just in the nick of time. It saved his sorry skin more times than he deserved, he was sure.

The fact was that today, the closer they got to Gettysburg, the twistier that feeling got. He had seen the look in Jacob Black's eyes and the expression on Bella's face whenever Uncle William was mentioned. He figured the battle lines had been drawn long ago and he stepped into the middle of it. He would soon prove to William Black that he was a force with which to be reckoned. He would make the man pay for the trouble he had brought on his wife when she had been alone. He just had to figure how to go about it.

"I've a mind to get off the next stop and see about hiring a buggy to get us the rest of the way home."

Bella blinked in surprise. "A-a-as you think best." She hardly understood why her husband would make this unexpected decision but she had to learn to trust his judgment. After all, she was in his care, now. However, the more she thought about it, the more she was glad they would bypass Gettysburg town. She didn't want to have any sour folk spoiling what had been the happiest two days in her memory and there was sure to be at least one person in Gettysburg who would have no qualms doing just that.

The conductor sang out for Hanover Station, which was in a middle-sized town, not quite as big as Gettysburg, but prosperous in its own way. When the train pulled in, Edward ushered his wife off, making sure she got down the steps safely. He led her into the depot and traded in the remainder of their tickets for cash money, then asked the way to a livery.

Bella noticed how the matron waiting for the next train gazed admiringly at her husband and she had to admit, he was a fine looking man. Tall, with a thick head of auburn hair, a firm jaw, well cut lips and deep green eyes. His dark suit with its full coat set his broad shoulders and long legs off quite splendidly. She was glad he didn't wear the stove pipe hats that were so popular. His own had a wider brim but shorter crown. It looked more useful than showy, in her opinion. She was proud to be on his arm and was sure she looked like a wren on the wing of an eagle.

The only livery in town happened to be directly opposite the depot, so it was only a short while later Edward and Bella were on their way by rented buggy and a hired horse to their farm, which was six or seven miles away.

"Are we purposely avoiding Gettysburg, Edward?"

"I think we just might be."

"Do you think there's trouble there?"

"Well, my dear, I do think that if there is trouble, it would more likely be there than here. Besides, it's a beautiful day for a ride, don't you agree?"

Bella looked around at the rolling fields burgeoning with ripening crops, blue skies above, the green trees shading their way, and she felt suddenly joyous. For the first time in a very long time she realized that she wasn't alone any longer. And it seemed to her, that Edward was very pleased to share her burdens, even if he couldn't ease them entirely.

She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and simply smiled. Life was good.

* * *

It wasn't long before Edward was guiding the buggy up the lane that led to the Swan cottage. He had half feared there would be some sort of vandalism or other not-so-welcoming committee awaiting them but all looked as they had left it the day before.

He pulled the buggy up to the porch steps and jumped out.

"Isabella, wait right there." He ran up the stairs and unlocked the door, pulling off his hat as he gave the main room a quick look. It seemed all was well.

Bareheaded, he went back out to the buggy, scooped Bella up into his arms and carried her across the threshold only to kiss her soundly once they got inside. "Welcome home, Mrs. Cullen."

Blushing and grinning, she replied, "Welcome home, yourself." He leaned down and drew her close to kiss her again and for a few golden moments they were lost in the feelings kissing always started.

But coming home meant returning to the mundane world where there was work to do.

Edward was a little breathless when he said, "I must see to the horse. I'll bring our bags in here and then once I've got the animal settled, I'll be back."

"That's fine. I shall get busy in here."

He paused before he left, green eyes gazing into hers and lifted her hand to his lips. Without another word, he turned and left.

She felt that kiss on the back of her hand the whole time she worked in the house, as she changed into a serviceable dress and pinny, as she rebuilt the fire and as she unpacked their bags.

She had decided that they would share the great bedroom in the front of the house, the one her parents had used years past. It was the largest of the three in the house and was better suited to a married couple. She opened the windows and the shutters, pulled the old counterpane off of the bed. She shoved the goose-down mattress half way out of the window so that it could air out, then went into her old room and pulled the straw mattress off her old bed. She knew from experience, it was too hot in the middle of July to sleep on down. She quickly dusted and swept the room, but that wasn't really needed. She made a practice of keeping her house tidy, though she noticed the whitewash could stand to be refreshed.

After fluffing the thick straw mattress, she tightened the ropes strung across the bedframe and laid the straw ticking down on it, then an old quilt, and then finally dressed the bed with fresh linens she had gotten out of the press.

The last thing she did was to go into her hope chest, the one her father had made for her, and her grandmother had helped to fill, and lift out a beautiful quilt. With tears in her eyes she smoothed it over the bed, recollecting when she helped her grandmother to stitch it.

"'_Tis a double wedding ring quilt, Isabella dear. You'll save it for your marriage bed. It will bring you much joy. I have one much like it that I used when your grandfather was living."_

She remembered her grandmother's work worn hand gently tracing the fresh, multi-colored ring pattern that had been incorporated into the white quilt top. She also remembered how she lovingly tucked her grandmother's own marriage quilt around the old lady's body as she lay in her casket the day she was buried. The pang of missing her granny pierced her heart at unusual times.

Bella's vision was blurry with tears as she slipped the top edge of her own wedding blanket just so under the bolster. It was hard to imagine that until yesterday, Bella had believed it was unlikely she'd ever use it.

But then, Edward returned and they married.

Like that, her tears melted away and she laughed for joy. They'd have no need of the lantern at night. Her smile was enough to light the world.

She took one last look around the room to make sure all was in order. She had moved a few things into the wardrobe from her old room and she carefully unpacked Edward's small case. There were a set of drawers, two shirts, and his shaving kit. She wondered if he had more than this back in Richmond. Surely he had a winter coat for the colder months. If not, she'd best get busy in making him some useful clothes.

She returned to the kitchen just as Edward came in from outside. He had removed his coat and cravat before setting to his tasks and rolled up the sleeves on his white shirt. Her housewifely mind thought that he was going to have to get some work clothes or he was going to ruin the ones he had. They weren't meant to be worn when working in the fields. She would have to see what was stored away from her father's and grandfather's day.

But when Edward saw her, he smiled and bowed his head in greeting and all thoughts of clothes went right out of her mind.

"I've seen to the horse. She's hobbled in the pasture behind the barn and I made sure the trough was filled. She's got plenty of grass there but I feared to let her loose as I'm not sure of the state of your fences."

"A lot of them were knocked down during the war and I've never repaired them."

"I noticed many good tools in your barn, including a post-hole digger. I can see that is going to figure in my future sooner rather than later but meanwhile, the hobble should keep the mare contained. The livery is sending a man in a week to fetch her and the buggy. We can take her into town tomorrow to get some supplies. Before coming in, I looked over your garden. The vegetables look well. It's a very large garden."

"That's how I feed myself. I put up most of the vegetables to get through the winter and I grow herbs and such for medicinal purposes. Dr. Gerandy buys them from me for use with his patients."

"I remember how well your salves and remedies worked. All were amazed at how quickly my wound healed."

"I think your own constitution had much to say about that, Edward."

As they spoke, she completed the preparations for a small meal. She'd already made some biscuits and she had honey on hand. A few sliced tomatoes and cucumbers with some salt sprinkled over top, rounded out their simple dinner. She made a pot of tea and figured that would be enough to get them through to supper time.

"I'm sorry I don't have much at the ready for a meal but I haven't had time to fix more than this."

"This is fine. Truly, I don't like eating heavily in the middle of the day. Now, I've a few questions for you so that I can order my plans. How big is this farm?"

"Pretty close to sixty acres. It's all good soil and well drained. My father used to farm all of it and, in good years, we lived very comfortably."

"What crops?"

"Wheat and corn, mostly. Those were our cash crops."

"Did you have any cattle?"

"Only the ones we raised for our own purposes: chickens, turkeys, a few pigs, and cows. We had work horses but my father didn't want to fool with cattle. He used to say he liked things that stayed where he put them."

Edward chuckled as he chewed his food thoughtfully. "And you used to lease out your land."

"I did until my uncle stepped in."

Nodding, Edward took another sip of his tea. "I know you have some chores to do around here, but I was wondering if you could first take a walk with me and point out the boundaries of your property?"

"Our property, Edward. What's mine is yours now."

Smiling, he placed his hand over hers and said, "And what's mine is yours, as well. I have some money put by. It's not much, but I think it will get us through our first year here and maybe provide some improvements. We'll have to see."

"The future doesn't worry me as much as it used to."

"Why is that?"

"Because you are here. I've a feeling that together we can accomplish most anything!"

"We shall need to get things settled with your Uncle first. Tell me about what we're facing with him? I've a feeling he's used to getting what he wants."

Bella sighed. "Uncle William doesn't have much confidence in women-folk. He was sure I'd ruin this property and was surprised when I was able to do just fine. Grant you, it wasn't as fine as my father was able to keep us, but I did well enough. Then, he fixed it so I couldn't."

"What kind of power does Uncle William have over the local farmers?"

"He sits on the board at the bank. As far as I can tell, he decides which farmers get loans, which don't, which get their loans called in, and which get theirs extended. He has his cronies on the board with him and influences their votes."

"And he would do that to hurt his own kin? That's dishonor of the highest order." Bella had never seen Edward look so severe.

"He's always been like that. He and Pa didn't get along very well. My mother and his wife, Aunt Hester, were sisters. My Granny told me that Uncle William and my Pa both had been courting my mother but my mother chose my Pa over Uncle William. Uncle William turned around and had married Ma's younger sister, out of spite. I don't know who he thought he was spiting, though. They never seemed very happy together but they did have my cousin Jacob, one of the dearest people I know."

"He didn't seem very dear to me when we met."

"I do believe he was concerned about my welfare, after all, he'd never heard of you before."

"Humph." Edward pushed his plate away and smiled at Bella. "If that's the case, perhaps one day Jacob and I can be friends, but I'll find it hard to be sanguine concerning your uncle."

He rose and took her hand. "Now, let us go out and walk the land. I won't keep you long from your tasks."

Smiling at him, she said, "I have a survey of the property my father had drawn up before he left for the war. He wanted to make sure my Granny and I _knew our rights_, he said. I expect he thought my Uncle would give me grief once he was gone, but he didn't in that way. I wouldn't be surprised if my Pa let him know about the survey and that he had it on file at the courthouse."

Edward shook his head as Bella got up to go through the old desk to find the papers she had mentioned. A few minutes later, they were walking down the lane, Bella pointing out where the borders of their property were.

Edward held the mapped survey and studied it as they went. Bella explained which fields had been planted with what crops, who their neighbors were and where their property line intersected the highway.

"Now, you follow that stream back until you reach a rock escarpment around that bend in the creek bed. I don't walk back there often. In fact, it borders Mr. Crowley's land and he looks after it for me. If there's a problem, he lets me know."

"Do you feel up to walking that way with me? I'd like to see it with my own eyes."

"Certainly." Bella led the way to the stile, but Edward helped her climb over it, holding her steady until she was on the other side of the fence. She smiled her thanks. She could get used to his courtesies.

They walked through tall grass for a quarter of an hour, following the wavering line of the creek bed. When they rounded the bend they had seen from the road, Bella stumbled to a stop and stared in surprise at the neat corn field that stretched in front of her.

"Is this where your land ends?"

"No! This field is ours but I didn't plant it. I don't know who did!"

"Whose land adjoins this?"

"Mr. Crowley."

"The man who keeps an eye on it for you?"

"The very one!"

"I venture he planted it out for you, too. Did he do this last year?"

"No, I don't think he did. I remember walking down here last August and it had gone to grass."

"I think we'd better call on your neighbor."

"What will we say?"

"The question will be what will _he_ say? Never fear, my dear. I will see to it."

They finished walking the remainder of the farm and found nothing unexpected, but a lot of neglect. Edward knew he had his work cut out for him but he was looking forward to it. He had the beginning of an idea that would surely set all to right. For the first time in many years, he was feeling hopeful.

* * *

Bella spent the rest of the day in her garden, weeding, pruning, and harvesting the vegetables that were ripe. She cut some herbs and hung them upside down in the barn from racks she had made for the purpose. The ones she had hung days past had thoroughly dried were taken down and placed with the vegetables she had harvested into a large basket and carried to the kitchen.

Once in the house, she climbed down into the cellar and fetched a jar of chicken she had put up during the year. Last spring, she'd been given a whole chicken for a small service she had done for a friend in town. She had eaten part of it and then had canned the rest. She was glad she had done that because now she had some meat to offer her husband that night come supper time. She hoped he liked fresh vegetables. She could make chicken and dumplings for the main part of the meal and have several side dishes of corn, butter beans, tomatoes, cucumbers and green beans for the rest.

She set about preparing the vegetables for canning the next morning, then started their supper. She was sure Edward would be hungry once he got back to the cottage. After she'd gotten all the food well along, she gathered his dirty linen, as well as her own, and washed them using some hot water, the wash board, and good lye soap she'd made the winter before.

Edward returned from the fields as she was hanging their clothes on the line in the yard.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

He removed his hat and bowed slightly. "I must confess, I'm a mite sharp set."

"Let me finish hanging these on the line and we can eat directly."

"I'd like to wash up first."

"I can heat some water and set up the tub."

"Oh no, don't trouble yourself. Just point me in the direction of a wash pan, soap and toweling and I'll wash up at the pump. The cool water will be refreshing."

Bella fetched the requested items and tried her best not to peek at him as he stripped down to his union suit, then pulled that item off half way and, after dousing himself with the water directly from the water pump, started lathering up his chest and arms. Curiously, Bella's mouth got dry and her eyes felt hot as though by merely glancing at that broad chest, muscled shoulders and strong arms caused her brains to fry. Vividly, she remembered how it felt to have that bare chest pressed against her own. She started to fan herself, suddenly overheated. What in the world was happening to her?

She quickly got back inside and set the table near the front window for their supper. Edward came in just as she was spooning their vittles onto plates. He had noticed her darting glances at him while he was bathing. He had made sure she had had a good view, but he couldn't catch her eye. He smiled when he remembered her bashfulness. Tonight, perhaps they'd work on that a bit. She had to learn that not only what was his was now hers, _he_ was now hers.

"That smells mouthwatering." He peeked over her shoulder to see what she had made and couldn't resist giving her a small squeeze as he did so.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells." She wasn't that fancy a cook so she was unsure of whether he'd enjoy her meal or not.

After bowing their heads, they both ate in silence for a few minutes. Bella snuck a few glances at Edward to try to see if he was enjoying the food, but he ate steadily until his plate was clean.

"That was beyond delicious, ma'am. Is there more?"

Relieved, she hopped up and grabbed his plate. "Yes sir, there's plenty left."

As she was refilling it, he said, "I spent the rest of the afternoon mending the fence along the frontage. That seemed to be the least ruined. Over behind the barn you can hardly tell there was ever a fence here.

"Yes. That was where most of the fighting was on our land. Most of the damage was done in that area. In fact…" she wasn't sure how to broach this but she thought he should know.

He looked attentively at her as she paused.

"In fact," she began again, "Near that stand of young oaks, there's a long row of unmarked graves of some Confederate soldiers."

He paled, and swallowed the bite he had taken. "Unmarked?"

"Yes. They were killed during the battle and so they were buried where they lay, God bless them."

Edward exhaled. It was a good chance he had known some of those soldiers as it was his division that had ended up fighting nearby. After all, there was a reason he had been carried into Bella's home after he had been shot. To think he could have old comrades buried on their land—that was something with which he would have to come to terms. For the moment, he didn't say anything, just nodded his head.

After their meal, Bella washed up as Edward sat at the table and wrote two letters, one to his father and one to his brother-in-law, Jasper Whitlock.

"I'm telling my folks about our marriage and asking them to send me my trunk. I'm also writing to Jasper, my sister Alice's husband, about an enterprise I'd like to broach with him. I hope it will be pleasing to you, as well."

"What's that?"

"I want to turn this property into a horse farm."

* * *

AN: The Swan farm was about three miles eastward from Gettysburg, so getting off at Hanover wasn't too out of the way.

Cold water bathing is a method of canning that was introduced in the mid 1800s. It became a common way for housewives to preserve foods for a later date.


	9. Enterprising

Chapter 8: Enterprising

"A horse farm?" Bella was baffled. There were no horse farms around Gettysburg.

"Yes. The land here cries out for it."

"Truly?"

"Certainly! There's grand rolling pasture-lands that are well watered, and enough acreage to raise the feed for them, as well. All we're missing are the fences and stables and those only require the materials and labor, which I can provide."

"Aren't we missing the horses, too?"

"That's where Brother Jasper rides in…he has the horses." With a satisfied grin, Edward sat back and put his hands behind his head.

"He has the horses? A herd of horses?"

"Not exactly a herd, but the beginnings of one. He has a fine stallion, by the name of Ransom. He's a Morgan, directly descended from Figure, the sire of the breed. Ransom throws the best foals I've ever seen. Jasper's made a pretty penny standing him for stud but he's always wanted to raise his own. The only problem is Brother doesn't have the land. He was boarding Ransom and his mares with us at _Bel Aire_, but you know how that turned out. He's had to stable them for the past few months at a livery and hasn't been too pleased about the arrangement. Here's his chance, I'd say. He can bring his horses here. With some careful husbandry, I believe we can find success."

"Are these race horses?"

"Not the usual race horse, although some do race them. They're an all-purpose animal. You can ride them and work them, as well as race them. Their gait is as smooth as buttermilk and, for a horse, they're right smart. I think the people of Gettysburg will admire their sterling qualities and appreciate their usefulness."

"They sound a treat, but no one around here raises horses in the way that you are saying."

"What do they do for horseflesh, then?"

"They mostly just breed what they have on their farms and let it go at that."

"They don't buy horses from vendors?"

"They may, but most here don't have the money for a fine horse when they have the need for one."

"We'll have to prove to them they're better off buying one from us."

"How will we do that?"

"Isabella, my dear, all they will have to do is see for themselves the majesty of the Morgan horse."

* * *

When the sun lowered in the sky, Edward led Bella out to the front porch, sat her down on a bench there and then straddled it himself.

"'Tis cooler out here than in yonder," he said, nodding towards the house.

"July's are known for their warmth but generally, it cools off at night."

"I'd have to say, the air is fresher here than I remember back in Virginia. Sometimes the moisture in the air is so thick back home, you could be forgiven for thinking you had fallen into the creek. It makes for a sticky day's work."

"That reminds me, I was thinking that perhaps I could find some of my father's old work clothes for you to use until your trunk arrives. You're going to ruin your good clothes if you work on the farm in them."

"I suppose you're right. Your father's old trousers served me well a while back as I remember."

"They were a mite short on you, though."

"I don't think the post-hole digger is going to give a care as to my sartorial choices."

"Ah, but what kind of wife would I be to let you out of the house in clothes that didn't fit? Give me a moment and let me see if there's anything to be had and I can adjust them to your size."

A few minutes later, Bella returned to the porch with a pair of overalls. "I found these in Pa's old trunk. I hope they'll serve."

She had Edward stand and she held the garment up to his body. She could tell by looking they were inches too short but otherwise, they would fit if she took the straps out to their fullest.

"But there's no hem in the bottom to let out." She was disappointed.

"That's no worry, darling. I'll just wear these tucked in my boots. None will know they are short but you and me. They'll do until my own clothes arrive. Speaking of which, we have to go into town tomorrow to mail my letters and see to some supplies."

"And talk to Mr. Crowley about that corn field."

"Aye. Looks like it will be a big day. Perhaps we should make an early night of it."

The deep timbre in Edward's voice as he said the last caused a thrill to rise up her back and gooseflesh to appear on her arms. She was still facing him, smoothing the overalls over his chest as they stood together on the front porch in the soft gloaming. The fireflies were just beginning to blink in the tall grass and the crickets had started their nightly chorus. It was peaceful and sweet and perfect.

She looked up into his soft eyes and whispered, "Perhaps we should."

"I'll check on the horse and make sure all is well outside. I'll be back in a bit."

As he had done earlier that morning right after they'd arrived at the farm, he lifted her hand and kissed it, his gaze never leaving hers. She doubted she would ever become inured to the feel of his lips on any part of her body.

He disappeared around the corner of the house and she stood there for a moment, her head in a delirious fog, until she remembered she had to get the house ready for the night. She went inside and put the lamp on, then pulled the shutters shut over the open windows. The shutters kept the critters out but let the cooler night air into the little house.

She banked the fire in the stove so that it wouldn't go out, but with a little tending would be ready quickly in the morning. She stirred the beans she was soaking a little to make sure they were not sticking together and covered the vegetables she was going to can in the morning. Going into their bedroom, she pulled the quilt off the bed and lovingly folded it over the rack under the window. They'd have no need of anything but the sheet on this warm night.

Now, she turned her attention to herself. Having a complete bath was a luxury that she indulged in every Saturday evening in preparation for the Sabbath, but at other times, she had what her granny had called a cat bath. She quickly changed out of her day dress and into her night robe. A long row of buttons down the front made it easy for her to be decent as she washed.

She returned to the kitchen and filled the wash pan with warm water that she got from the large kettle she always kept on the stove and shaved some soap into it. Her Granny had taught her how to add different ingredients to bathing soap that enhanced its qualities. By careful use of oil and various herbs, she could bathe without drying out her skin. The soap she used this night had the light scent of roses. She hoped Edward would appreciate its fragrance.

Opening the front of her robe, she washed her face and neck, her shoulders, and each arm one at the time. Then she washed her torso and legs, paying particular attention to the lower part of her body. In her opinion, there was nothing worse than smelly feet in the bed.

After rinsing off, she felt refreshed, if a little bit nervous. She was glad she was able to complete her ablutions before Edward returned. Even though they had already shared a night together, she was still a little shy about baring all in front of him. She buttoned back up and then went to the back door to throw her wash water over the porch rail into the yard. She almost threw it on Edward as he was returning to the house.

"Oh, my apologies! I didn't expect you there."

Taking the wash tub out of her arms, he smiled. "You'll get used to me being here sooner than later. Is there more water for me?"

She held the door open for him as he entered the house. "Yes. I always keep a kettle on the stove. I've also left some soap and towels on the table. I usually wash up in the kitchen in front of the fire. Do you think that seemly?"

"Of course."

He started unbuttoning his shirt, then sat down in a wooden kitchen chair and made to pull off his boots.

"Here, I can help with those."

Bella knelt to assist, but he stopped her. "My boots are dusty and you just washed up. I can manage here."

Touched by his consideration for her, she rose to her feet. "I'll be in the bedroom then." She took a candlestick and lit it from the lamp and left him to his own devices.

He watched her as she left the room, admiring how the damp spots on her gown clung to her skin.

He decided that he'd have a shave.

* * *

By the time Edward got to their room, Bella had already brushed out her hair, and got into bed. She had blown out the candle, trusting Edward would bring the lamp with him. She was surprised, however, when her half naked husband turned the lamp up to its brightest after he set it down on the dresser.

"Do you plan to do some reading?" she asked.

He looked up at her as he started shedding the remainder of his clothes and smiled, "No, ma'am."

She rose up on her elbow to study him, but when she realized he was getting ready to drop his union suit to the floor, she flopped back onto the bolster and stared at the ceiling. "Generally, when I go to sleep, I turn down the lamp."

He slipped between the sheets, then reached over to draw her close. "Well, I do as well, but I'm not planning on sleeping right off, and I've discovered a vision I can't resist."

Bella was surprised to realize she was as bashful this night as she had been the night before. Blushing brightly, she said, "I am sure you may be disappointed in what you may see without the aid of moonlight and shadows to dim the view."

He chuckled and pushed a strand of hair off her cheek. "Don't be shy, beloved. You and I are lawfully wedded husband and wife. This is our first night together in our home. I have a mind to celebrate it."

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, but this isn't our first night in our home or even in this bed. Don't remember that night when you consoled me from my nightmares?"

He blinked as memories stirred and grinned, "Now, that you mention it, I remember it quite well. I was proud to be of service to you that evening, but I don't think I slept a minute that night."

"You didn't? Were you uncomfortable? I know your leg must have been throbbing."

He shook his head, the grin not leaving his face. "No, it wasn't my leg that was throbbing. I have to admit, that night I was somewhat stirred up by a lovely armful of womanly perfection that was nestled against my chest. It was a pleasant sensation, but not one to inspire slumber."

"Oh, go on with you, Edward. You weren't interested in me that way."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because, well, I was a Yankee and you never seemed to notice I was a woman."

"Ma'am, I hate to dispute with you but the fact you were a beautiful woman was first thing I noticed when I was in my right mind. I'm sure that while I was still in the fog of delirium I supposed you were an angel."

"But you never said a word."

"It wouldn't have been gentlemanly to make you uncomfortable by my enthusiasm. But I did notice." Here, he kissed her forehead.

"I was certainly stirred." Then, he kissed her nose.

"And I was definitely enthused." Finally, he kissed her lips and she melted.

Sighing, she murmured, "Well, now that I think further on it, you did kiss me goodbye before you left."

He stroked her back and said, "That I did."

"That's when I knew you cared for me," she said with conviction.

He paused at that. During that particular time in his life, the only thing he knew he had cared about was breathing his next breath. His days with Bella were an interlude, a dream that he tucked away to pull out when he needed it. Sometimes it was the only thing that got him through the hell he had been living during the war. But in the years since, he had done his best to lock every memory of that time away, lest it raise horrors that should be forgot. But that story was for another evening. Now was a time for pleasure and comfort.

"All I know for sure is that you were my angel and now you are my wife. Let us rejoice in it."

He reached for the buttons on her gown and started undoing them. "I believe it's too hot for clothes, don't you think?"

"You seem to be a hot-blooded man."

"How can I help myself, with such a beauty in my arms?"

He finished unbuttoning the last then helped her to lift the garment over her head. He discovered that her enchanting blush traveled from her cheeks, down her neck, and across her breasts. He followed the blush with his lips.

Bella couldn't believe the sensations he was causing. They filled her body much like the love she had for him filled her heart, her soul, her every particle.

He pulled the covers back and lifted up to look down on her. "My beautiful angel." He stroked a finger from her shoulder to her hip and she shivered.

She had to admit that he himself was a fine looking example of manhood. She hadn't been brave enough to study him closely the night before but, finding her courage—and, she had to admit, her curiosity—she ran her eyes over his form. There were parts of him that were startling in their masculinity, but for some reason when she studied them her mouth went bone dry and an ache started below that she hoped could be satisfied.

His hands and lips worked together to make her giddy as he slid his hand from her hip to cup what ached. His fingers…oh, his fingers…she'd never felt the like as they touched and stroked and explored. Oh my. The sensation was in the direction of last night's, but so much more.

"What are you doing to me?" She was breathless.

"This is the loving, Bella."

"I had no idea it could be so….so….ohhhh…" She was moaning now unable to complete her thought.

"Just set loose and feel. The loving is meant to be enjoyed for both husband and wife. Let go, my honey, my sweeting, let go…"

Without any thought, she grabbed a fist full of bed linens in each hand and hollered as she was overtaken by a feeling that was bigger than her body, the bed, the house, the farm. Lord knew, it was as big as the night sky, and after she flew up there amongst the glistening stars, she floated back down in long arcs, heart pounding, pulse racing and with a heart so full.

"Edward…" She looked up at his satisfied smile, a little confused at everything that had just happened, though her own smile was beatific.

"I wanted you to feel that last night."

"You knew it could be this way?" She was panting a little, her words breathy.

"I did." He didn't extrapolate and she wasn't quite sure she wanted him to at the moment.

He leaned over and kissed her, pulling her bottom lip in between his own and touched it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered again as he moved over her, all at the ready on his end. Pulling her leg up, he slid between and soon he was once again loving her as he did the night before.

There was no pain this night, only bliss. She remembered how he had hitched her leg and how good that felt so she pulled her knees up. He caught them and soon he was chanting, "Oh, Bella, my dear, my darling, my own."

She watched the play of feelings cross his face as he let out an exultant groan and thought she'd never seen anything as beautiful.

He sank down atop her and rested his head on the bolster next to hers not able to move at the moment. He'd never felt so bound up in the act of loving, though he'd never called it that before. It was a powerful thing, he thought. Overwhelming.

Bella started to wriggle and he realized he was crushing her. "Oh, so sorry," he said as he rolled off of her.

"Did you just feel as I had?"

Pulling her close, he said, "I'm fairly positive I did."

"How does a married couple get any work done?"

"What do you mean?" He wasn't much up to a discussion at the moment. In fact, slumber was pulling at him insistently.

"I mean, how are we going to get any work done? We'll be so enamored of the loving, we won't take the time to work the farm!" She was half-serious as she said this. Edward was proving to be entirely distracting to her peace of mind.

He laughed and said, "We can't be loving all the day long. That's what the nights are for."

"Oh, I see." What she could definitely see was her troubles keeping her hands to herself during those days. She worried for her self-discipline.

Edward tucked Bella under his arm so that her head was nestled against his chest and he mumbled, "A perfect end to a perfect day."

As Bella drifted off to sleep in her husband's arms, she'd have to agree. Actually, it had been two perfect days. Now they would have to see what the morning would bring them. Deep in her heart she was beginning to believe that with Edward at her side, they could surmount any trouble—she hoped.

And also she thought she could also dispense with that nightgown for a while.

* * *

AN

Happy Birthday to my beta, Vecha, and thanks for taking the time out of your birthday to give this a look see.

Also, thanks to my horsewoman extraordinaire, KatMom, who actually lives on a horse ranch and gave me such good advice about the horse farm that Edward wants to start.

Historical Notes:

Figure was the first horse designated a Morgan. He lived in Vermont during the late 1700s. He was such a fine example of horse-flesh and he had such strong genes he passed his characteristics on to his foals. His name was later changed to Justin Morgan, after his owner. The Morgan was one of the first horse-breeds to be developed in the US. They are noted for their fine features, strength and versatility.

Hygiene 1800s style. I know this grosses you guys out, but before modern plumbing people stunk. You know how a dog smells like a dog, a horse smells like a horse? Well people smelled like people. No deodorants then, my dears. It was something people were used to, so it wasn't as offensive as it would be these days. Bella was a clean and tidy woman but she still only had a tub bath once a week and what a chore it was! Folks had wash stands in their bedrooms that served their "cat bath" sites and even then, they weren't as meticulous as Bella was. Also people didn't wash their hair that often. My mom (who is 90) had a neighbor when she was a little girl (in the 20s/30s) who only washed her waist length hair ONCE A YEAR! I give you permission to be grossed out now.


	10. Comeupance

Chapter 9: Comeupance

Edward was up before the dawn, leaving his sleeping wife tucked sweetly in their bed. He stood looking down at her as she slumbered, caught by her beauty. He could hardly understand the overwhelming feeling he had as he studied her, one of complete protectiveness. He would make sure her life was easier from now on.

He took his clothes out to the main room and got dressed by the dim light of the lamp that he'd brought with him. He wanted to get a couple solid hours work on that fence line out by the front of the house before they'd go into town. There was a lot to do on this farm in order to make it what he envisioned, but he wasn't afraid of work. Actually, there wasn't much of which he was afraid in this life.

He left by the back door and made his way to the barn where he'd left his tools the day before. He looked around as he walked, checking to see that the horse was still hobbled in the nearby field. He spotted her standing under a tree, motionless. He smiled. It appeared that the women on the farm were slug-a-beds this morning.

He went to the pump and dashed some water on his face, and then cupped his hands for a drink. Spitting out a mouthful, he stood and took in a deep breath, smelling the rich fragrance of earth, wood, and sky. This was good land. On the day he returned he could tell, underneath the neglect, this was prime. He turned in a slow circle and by the pale light of the setting moon he could envision a pasture over there, a stable yonder, with a paddock nearby. He could almost hear the whinny of the horses that they would breed here.

His step had a spring in it that had been missing for far too long.

He picked up the post-hole digger, his new weapon at arms, slung it on his shoulder, and took off for the fence line along the road. He reckoned he could get that section finished this morning. He had borrowed some downed rails and posts from other parts of the old fence to fix the gaps along the front but there would be a need for more wood to fix the rest. He would order new posts and rails when he got into town today.

Back home, they'd just cut the lumber from the woods, let it cure, then make fences that way. That cost no money, but it took time-time he didn't have. He hoped Jasper would jump in the parade the minute he got his letter and have those horses up here before two months had passed. He had much to do before then, if that was the case. He only hoped his money would stretch.

He stopped when he got to the road and looked towards the east as the sun was just beginning to peep over the horizon. It turned the puffy clouds a deep rose that lightened the higher it got in the sky and illuminated the rolling fields that stretched out in every direction. It was a dazzling sight, indeed.

Yes. To have all this and his lovely bride? He was a lucky man.

Taking a deep breath, he got to work.

He'd worked solid for about an hour, when he heard his name. Looking up, he saw Bella walking toward him carrying a coffee cup. Smiling at her unexpected appearance, he set the digger to the side as she approached and wiped his hands on his pants.

She held the cup out to him and said, "I'm right ashamed I didn't get up with you."

"I was awake too early for my own use. I thought I'd try to get this stretch done before going into town."

As he drank his coffee, Bella looked down the fence line, impressed with the amount he had accomplished. "Lordy, look at all you've done! What fine work!"

He smiled and set the coffee cup on top of a nearby post and grabbed her hand. "Just shows you what a motivated man can do." He drew her close and kissed her forehead.

"When will you be in for breakfast?"

He squinted at the pile of rails he had yet to thread into their places. "I've finished setting all the posts for this lot. Now it's just a matter of placing the rails. I'd say about an hour?"

"I'll have food for you then." She squeezed his hand and made to return to the house, but he pulled her back.

He took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

Half-dazed she said, when he pulled away, "I thought this was for the nights."

He shook his head. "The loving is for the nights but this, my dear, is a simple husbandly courtesy."

"They have strange manners in the south."

"Well, I can't credit the south for that particular custom."

"No? Then where did it come from?"

"I do believe it came from my own heart, Mrs. Cullen." He smiled as he turned away and lifted a rail. "I'd better get this done, or I'll ruin your cooking."

At his words, Bella's own heart felt it had flown up to the region of the tree tops. His heart? Could it be he felt the same as she did? Or was beginning to? She had told him she knew he cared for her but she realized that what brought him back was the responsibility he felt for her. She hoped he had stayed because he cared for her—that perhaps he loved her, too.

She hadn't been courageous enough to ask.

* * *

While Edward was working on the fence, Bella busied herself around the house. She got the first batch of vegetables on the boil in their jars and she tidied their home. After the dew dried, she took the clothes off the line she had hung out the night before, warmed up her irons and then pressed the creases out of Edward's shirt so that it looked as good as new. She then got out her clothes brush and brushed his good trousers, waistcoat, and coat until the nap was soft and tidy. Pleased with her industry, she knew Edward would look a fine figure of a man going into town. She made sure her own clothes were in order, as well. She needed to be a fitting partner to such a man.

Now for breakfast. Earlier, she'd drained the beans she had put on to soak the night before. She had chopped up an onion and sliced a piece of bacon off the slab she had hanging from the kitchen rafter and fried them up a bit. Then, she added them to the beans with a bit of water and salt and set them on the stove to simmer. With some fresh coffee, the beans and biscuits would serve as their morning meal. She regretted she had no eggs nor milk but with no livestock, these were only available when she bought some or had been given them in trade.

She doubled the batch of biscuits in order to bring the leftovers into town for their midday meal. She would make a paste out of the cooled beans, add a little more spice and, spread it on the biscuits with some fresh cut tomatoes. She twisted her lips ruefully at her limited pantry. She sure hoped Edward liked beans.

By the time Edward got back to the house, all was ready. They sat down together at the kitchen table. Edward reached across its plain planks and took her hand.

"Let us give thanks," he said as he met her eyes.

Bella nodded. Wondering if he would let her hands go to ask the blessing, she was surprised when he simply bowed his head and said, "Dear Father, humble our hearts and thank thee for thy many blessings. We thank thee for this sustenance which we are about to partake, and we ask that you bless the hands that prepared it. Amen."

"Amen." She blushed at being singled out in the prayer but was honored that Edward thought of it.

As she ladled the beans over the biscuits on Edward's plate, she asked, "Is this how you pray, Edward?"

He took his plate, and answered, "What do you mean?"

"You held my hand while we said grace."

"In my family, it is the custom at meals to hold hands when we ask the blessing."

"It's a nice custom."

"It seems I'm teaching you several new ones these days."

"It seems I have much to learn."

"As I do. 'Tis all new ground we traverse. As long as we do it together and with open hearts, I doubt we'll run afoul."

"Speaking of that, do you think will have trouble today?"

"Nothing I can't handle. We'll visit the Crowley's first. I think your neighbor helped himself to an empty field. He probably believed you wouldn't have ever known about it."

"Why do you think that?"

"Tell me, did you ask him to look out for that field or did he volunteer to do it?"

Bella thought back and said, "As I recall, in the spring Tyler Crowley apologized for not being able to rent my fields and he said he'd do anything to help me as he felt partially responsible for my predicament. I was resigned to the trouble, but then he offered to look out for the fields close to his land and that I should not worry about them. It was "the least he could do," he said." Bella's lips curled in derision. She shouldn't have trusted him without periodically checking on things herself, but there was always so much to do. It had been easy to forget about the fallow land.

"I noticed he planted right up to the line of sight from the road so that in order to see the corn, you actually had to walk to the field. That was a planned campaign right there."

Bella sighed. "It's hard to think that people you've known all your life would take advantage like that."

"It's regretful that's true but, unfortunately, it is also human nature. I'm sure we'll come to some sort of terms with the man today.

"I don't know what to say to him, Edward."

"Just introduce us, sweet Bella, and I shall do the rest. He'll hardly know he's been caught red-handed." He smiled and tipped his coffee cup to her before he drank what was left in it.

Breakfast was soon over and it didn't take long for them to be ready. Bella packed a basket with their dinner and Edward carried it out to the buggy where he tied it onto the rack in the back. He helped her into the seat and then climbed in next to her.

"Now, it begins," Edward said, a martial gleam in his eye. He clucked to the mare and they were off.

As they pulled up the lane that led to the Crowley farm house, Edward suddenly pulled the mare to a stop.

"Well, I'll be…" he said as he stared into the pasture that ran alongside the lane. Bella eyes went wide when he put his fingers to his lips and emitted a shrill whistle. Suddenly, a horse who had been grazing with a few others on the far side of the pasture jerked up its head and looked to where Edward and Bella were sitting in the buggy.

Edward looped the reins of the carriage around the dash rail, jumped out, and ran to the fence that bordered the pasture, staring intently at the horse. He whistled again and suddenly, the horse started to gallop towards him with a long, graceful gait. It skidded to a stop when it got to the fence and then, with almost too much force, butted its head against Edward's as he reached out to fondle her ears.

"Tanya, girl, you got through it…you got through..." He put his head against the horse's cheek and wrapped his arm about her neck.

Bella soon followed Edward over to the railing and watched as the horse snorted and stamped her feet and pushed against her husband who was holding on to the animal for dear life.

"This is my horse, Bella. I raised her from her foaling. I cannot count the times I cursed myself for bringing her to war with me. I always had believed she'd been killed the day I was shot. I never dreamed of seeing her again."

Bella was surprised to see tears in Edward's eyes. "It must be a miracle!" she said in breathless wonder.

"It certainly is. Do you know her story at all?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. It seems I do remember Tyler finding a horse out behind his henhouse after the fighting. There was so much confusion during those times. We had lost so much, so anything found was considered a blessing. Maybe he found Tanya?"

"That he most certainly did."

He continued to scratch Tanya behind her ears. "It makes sense that Crowley would have found her. After all, I was wounded near enough to his place. It isn't surprising that she would turn up here."

Giving the horse one last pat, Edward turned to Bella and said, "I do believe we have something with which to barter."

Tanya followed them down the fence line, then whinnied piteously when she could go no further. It seemed the horse had missed the man as much as the man had missed the horse.

* * *

"Well, Isabella Swan, what a surprise!"

"Good morning, Millie. Please forgive our intrusion so early. I hope we're not a bother."

"Oh, never a bother! It's a pleasure when you visit." Millie looked inquiringly at Edward.

"Much has changed for me last we talked, Mille. Let me introduce you to my husband, Edward Cullen."

Millie's eyes went wide and she put her hand to her heart as Edward sketched an elegant bow. "Husband! Husband? My, my, my. I do indeed say much has happened. Well, my dears, don't stand there on the threshold. Please, come in, come in and sit a spell."

The welcoming woman ushered her guests inside to the front parlor. This room was outfitted with the finest furniture and ornaments they owned. It was only used for company and no one in the family ventured in unless they were in their Sunday best and entertaining guests. Bella guessed Edward's presence had spurred Millie to trot out her finest. When Bella had visited in the past, she and Millie simply chattered away in the kitchen with a cup of tea at their elbows but today, nothing but the best would do, she guessed.

Before they sat down, Millie turned to the group of children who stood in the doorway, not daring to come in. "Janey, take your little sister and go put the tea pot on. Use the blue china, mind. Cut some of that cake, too. Hiram, you and Daniel go out to the barn and tell your Pa we've got company. Tell him we's in the parlor." She said that last part archly, as though it would communicate something of high importance to her husband.

After the children had been sent off in their various directions, Millie turned to Bella and Edward and said, "I must say this is quite the surprise."

"I can imagine it is, ma'am, but I'm sure you can also understand how love makes a man impetuous." Edward smiled his most charming and Bella could see Millie melt right in front of her eyes.

"Oh, sir. But how? I never even knew that Isabella had a beau."

"Well, I suppose I didn't choose to tell you, Millie. I wasn't sure Mr. Cullen returned my feelings for him, and so I kept it secret to myself."

"So, how did it happen?"

Edward smiled and leaned forward as though imparting a huge secret. "Bella wrote me a letter that told me more than she realized. When I finally understood the state of her heart, I left my home in such a hurry, I didn't even take the time to respond to her by mail. I surprised Bella at her home, not two days ago, and asked her to marry me. Not wanting to waste a day of our future together, we left right then for York, got married, and returned here yesterday afternoon as man and wife."

"My, that _was _fast." Millie looked like a breeze had blown what sense she had clear out of her brains.

"I couldn't be happier, Millie, and that's the truth." Bella smiled at her husband who returned her look with a fond one of his own.

"So, you'll be staying in Gettysburg, then?"

Edward answered, "Yes. We plan to restore the Swan Farm. As a matter of fact, I've started in on it all ready."

They heard a door slam and footsteps come down the hall. Edward rose from his seat, figuring the man of the house was about to make his appearance and he wanted to be on his feet when they met.

Sure enough, a small, wiry man, several years older than the jolly Millie, peered through the doorway. He'd made an attempt to clean up, but was still wearing his overalls and boots. His hair was slicked back and his hands and face looked as though they had recently been scrubbed clean. He had huge mustachios that were so long, they met up with his extremely bushy sideburns. In Bella's opinion, he looked rather comical, like a startled ground hog popping up out of his burrow. She was glad Edward preferred to be clean-shaven, which was not quite the style, but she cared not. She wouldn't like to have anything obscuring his handsome face.

"Tyler, you'll never guess what our Bella's been about!" Millie exclaimed. "She's gone and gotten married! This here is Mr. Edward Cullen and they were wed the day before yesterday."

Tyler's ruddy face blanched a bit, and he swallowed. "Con-con-congratulations, Mr. Cullen, Bella." He shook Edward's hand and gave Bella a nod.

"We should have refreshments in celebration," Millie said. "I asked Janey to bring us the fixings for it. Now that you're here, Tyler, I'll go back and help her along." Millie rose as she was talking and quickly left the room.

There was an awkward pause after she left.

"S-s-so, do you plan to stay in Gettysburg?" Tyler asked, unwittingly parroting his wife.

"Of course we do," Edward responded. "As a matter of fact, just yesterday Mrs. Cullen was showing me around the property and I was taken with its quality. It's the best farm land I've seen short of the Shenandoah Valley."

"Oh, you've been to the Shenandoah?"

"Indeed I have. I've seen it at its best and at its worst, but even in those days, you couldn't hide the farming paradise it is."

"I suppose you saw it during the hostilities?"

"I did."

"You were in the war?"

"I was. Were you?"

"I had a release due to family matters, but that didn't stop the war from coming to me."

Edward nodded his head. "The battle here was gruesome. Fifty thousand dead or wounded. It's hard to fathom such a loss."

"Yes, that's true. I, uhm, can't place your manner of speaking. Ye ain't from around here are you?"

Edward was still standing and purposely didn't relieve the man's curiosity about his origins. His eyes took on a peculiar glint as he changed the subject. "I wanted to thank you, sir, for planting out that field that's hidden from the road for Mrs. Cullen. She was explaining to me the bind you both were in concerning the leasing of our fields. Yesterday, she was astonished to see corn at least two months from seed standing there. It was an agreeable surprise."

"Sur-Sur-Surprise? Oh…well, yes." Tyler paused a moment as if in thought. "I suppose she was surprised about it. I-I-I was going to present her with a cash bonus after the harvest. Now it is ruined." He tried to look sad.

"Well, since the cat's out of the bag, I have another proposition for you, one that would suit us better, as well as Mrs. Cullen's Uncle William."

Tyler looked worried at the mention of the man. "What's that?"

"Don't bother about a cash bonus. We'll take half the corn when it's harvested, and I find I have a need for a horse. I saw you had several in the pasture out yonder, certainly more than a farm of this size calls for, and probably eating their heads off being more burden than benefit. I would take one of those."

Edward's steely gaze told Tyler all that he needed to know. Edward was demanding, not asking.

"Half the harvest and a horse? That's rather a lot."

Edward shrugged. "I think it only fair, considering…"

Tyler had the grace to look sheepish. "Considering…"

Edward didn't respond, just lifted his brows.

"I'll choose the horse." Tyler completely capitulated.

Edward shook his head. "No. We'll let the horse choose."

"The horse?"

"Aye. I've found horses to have minds of their own. I'd rather it pick me than the other way around."

"It's a bit strange to be picking cattle like that, but I suppose you can try it and see what happens. What if they ignore you?"

"Then I'll go without."

Just then, Millie arrived with a tray. "Here we are. How do you take your tea, Mr. Cullen?"

Their conversation shifted to general topics and soon, the visit was over. Leading them out front to say their goodbyes, Tyler was shocked when that the strange mare he'd found those years ago was waiting at the pasture gate. She grew agitated when she saw Edward. It was evident to everyone that the horse had picked her man. Baffled, Tyler agreed to keep her until Edward got his fences in good repair. He had a feeling that things were about to change around these parts.

Not long afterwards, Edward and Bella found themselves tooling back down the Crowley farm lane at last headed towards town.

"That was a good morning's work," Edward said.

"I was truly amazed at how Tyler agreed to your proposals."

"I'd backed him into a corner and gave him only one honorable way out without losing face. Most men would have taken it."

"I'm so glad you were there. I'd doubt I could have made him do a thing without bringing the law into it."

Edward turned to her and said with as much gravity as he had said his vows, "My aim, Mrs. Cullen, is to pave your way so that your life is easier, so that all you shall have to concern yourself with is what vittles you shall prepare for our dinner or what our young'uns are up to in the barn. I should have been here long ago making it so for you, but I promise, from now on you shall always have me to champion you.

"Now, on to Gettysburg. I believe we have some letters to mail."

* * *

AN:

Dry Cleaners in the 1800's? What's that? To clean fine clothes, such as woolen suits, a damp cloth could be used to get dirt out but to really prepare a garment to be worn again, a clothes brush was used. Actually, if you have a good wool article of clothing, it would be wise to brush it with a clothes brush periodically. You'd be surprised how nice it makes the fabric look.

Parlors. Did you have a room that was too good to use when you were growing up?

Sorry this is late. I went out of town this past week end and it put my writing behind.

Thanks to VeCha and KatMom for their help.


End file.
